Lyttle  Salem  Maide 

r  Story  of  Witchcraft 


SAN  DIEGO 


V 


Ye  Lyttle  Salem  Maide 


Ye  Lyttle  Salem  Maide 

A  Story  of  Witchcraft 


BY 

Pauline  Bradford  Mackie 

Author  of 
'  Mademoiselle  De  Berny  :   A  Slory  of  Valley  Forge 


Illustrated  by 
E.  W.  D.   Hamilton 

"This  world  is  very  evil, 
The  times  are  waxing  late  " 


Lamson,  Wolffe  and  Company 

Boston,  New  York  and  London 
MDCCCXCVIII 


Copyright,    1898, 
By  Larnson,  Wolffe  and   Company. 


All  rights  reserved. 


The  Norwood  Press 

J.  S.   Gushing  &  Co.  —  Berwick  &  Smith 
Nor-wood,  Mass.,   U.S.A. 


IN    LOVING    REMEMBRANCE    OF 
OLD    DAYS   AT    ENGLEWOOD 


Contents 

Chapter  Page 

I.  A  Meeting  in  the  Forest  i 

II.  Sir  Jonathan's  Warning      .           .  .18 

III.  The  Yellow  Bird      .          .          .  .38 

IV.  In  which  Demons  assault  the  Meeting 

house         .           .           .           .  -55 

V.  The  Coming  of  the  Town  Beadle  .        70 

VI.  The  Woman  of  Ipswich     .           .  .80 

VII.  The  Trial  of  Deliverance  .          .  .92 

VIII.  The  Last  Witness     .          .          .  1 1 3 

IX.  In  which  Abigail  sees  Deliverance  .      128 

X.  A  Little  Life  sweetly  Lived          .  .      141 

XI.  Abigail  goes  to  Boston  Town       .  .158 

XII.  Mr.  Cotton   Mather  visits  Deliverance      169 

XIII.  In  the  Green  Forest            .           .  .188 

XIV.  A  Fellow  of  Harvard         .           .  .206 
XV.  Lord  Christopher  Mallett  .          .  .226 

XVI.  At  the  Governor's  House  .          .  .      244 


viii  Contents 

Chapter  Page 

XVII.  In  a  Sedan-chair    .           .  .  .256 

XVIII.  The  Coming  of  Thomas  .  .      273 

XIX.  On  Gallows'  Hill            .  .  .290 

XX.  The  Great  Physician       .  .  .      309 


List  of  Illustrations 

Page 
"  '  There,    keep   ye  at   that   distance.      I  ken 

your  sly  ways  '  '  .          .          .    Frontispiece 

"  'Take  care  lest  you  harbour  a  witch  in  yon 
der  girl  '  .          .  .  .          -33 
"Strangely   enough,    the    old    woman    seemed 

like  a  witch  "      .          .          .          .          .194 
"  Her  ladyship  tilted  her  chin  in  the  air  "         .      260 


Ye  Lyttle  Salem  Maide 

Chapter  I 
A  Meeting  in  the  Forest 

OVER  two  centuries  ago  a  little  Puri 
tan  maiden  might  have  been  seen 
passing  along  the  Indian  path  which  led 
from  out  Salem  Town  to  her  home.  It 
was  near  the  close  of  day.  The  solemn 
twilight  of  the  great  primeval  forest  was 
beginning  to  fall.  But  the  little  maid 
tripped  lightly  on,  unawed,  untroubled. 
From  underneath  her  snowy  linen  cap, 
with  its  stiffly  starched  ear-flaps,  hung  the 
braid  of  her  hair,  several  shades  more 
golden  than  the  hue  of  her  gown.  Over 
one  arm  she  carried  her  woollen  stockings 
and  buckled  shoon. 

A  man,  seated   near   the   path   on   the 
trunk    of  a   fallen   tree   of  such   gigantic 


Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 


girth  that  his  feet  swung  off  the  ground, 
although  he  was  a  person  of  no  incon 
siderable  size,  hailed  her  as  she  neared 
him.  "  Where  do  you  wend  your  way 
in  such  hasty  fashion,  little  mistress  ?  " 

She  paused  and  bobbed  him  a  very  fine 
courtesy,  such  as  she  had  been  taught  in 
the  Dame  School, judging  him  to  be  an  im 
portant  personage  by  reason  of  his  sword 
with  its  jewelled  hilt  and  his  plumed  hat. 
"  I  be  sorely  hungered,  good  sir,"  she  re 
plied,  "  and  I  ken  that  Goody  Higgins 
has  a  bowl  o'  porridge  piping  hot  for  me 
in  the  chimney  corner."  Her  dimpled 
face  grew  grave  ;  her  eyelids  fell.  "  When 
one  for  a  grievous  sin,"  she  added  humbly, 
"  has  stood  from  early  morn  till  set  o' 
sun  on  a  block  o'  wood  beside  the  town- 
pump,  and  has  had  naught  to  eat  in  all 
that  time,  one  hungers  much." 

"  And  would  they  put  a  maid  like  you 
up  for  public  punishment  ?  "  cried  the 
Cavalier.  "  By  my  faith,  these  Puritans 
permit  no  children.  They  would  have 
them  saints,  lisping  brimstone  and  wrest 
ling  with  Satan  ! " 


A  Meeting  in  the  Forest 


"  Hush,  hush  !  "  cried  the  little  maid, 
affrighted.  "  Ye  must  not  say  that  word 
lest  the  Devil  answer  to  his  name."  She 
pointed  to  where  the  sunset  glimmered 
red  behind  the  trees.  "  Do  ye  not  ken 
that  when  the  sun  be  set,  the  witches  ride 
on  broomsticks  ?  After  dark  all  good 

o 

children  stay  in  the  house." 

"  Ho,  ho  !  "  laughed  the  stranger  ;  "  and 
have  you  a  law  that  witches  must  not  ride 
on  broomsticks  ?  You  Puritans  had  best 
be  wary  lest  they  ride  your  nags  to  death 
at  night  and  you  take  away  their  broom 
sticks." 

"Ay,"  assented  the  maid.  "Old  Goody 
Jones  is  to  be  hanged  for  witchery  this  day 
week.  One  morn,  who  should  find  his 
nag  steaming,  flecked  with  foam,  its  mane 
plaited  to  make  the  bridle,  but  our  good 
Neighbour  Root.  When  I  heard  tell  o'  it, 
I  cut  across  the  clearing  to  his  barn  before 
breakfast,  and  with  my  own  eyes  saw  the 
nag  with  its  plaited  mane  and  tail.  Neigh 
bour  Root  suspicioned  who  the  witch  was 
that  had  been  riding  it,  but  he,  being  an 
o'er-cautious  man,  kept  a  close  mouth. 


Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 


Well,  at  dawn,  two  days  later,  he  jumped 
wide-awake  all  in  a  minute,  —  he  had  been 
sleeping  with  an  eye  half-cocked,  as  it 
were,  —  for  he  heard  the  barn  door  slam. 
He  rose  and  lit  his  lantern  and  went  out. 
There  he  saw  Goody  Jones  hiding  in  a 
corner  of  the  stall,  her  eyes  shining  like  a 
cat's.  When  she  saw  he  kenned  her,  she 
gave  a  wicked  screech  and  flew  by  him  in 
the  form  o'  an  owl.  He  was  so  afeared 
lest  she  should  bewitch  him,  that  he  trem 
bled  till  his  red  cotton  nightcap  fell  off. 
It  was  found  in  the  stall  by  our  goodly 
magistrate  in  proof  o'  Neighbour  Root's 
words." 

The  Cavalier's  face  grew  grim.  "  Ay," 
he  muttered,  "  the  Lord  will  yet  make 
these  people  repent  the  innocent  blood 
they  shed.  Hark  ye,  little  mistress,  I 
have  travelled  in  far  countries,  where 
they  have  the  Black  Plague  and  terrible 
diseases  ye  wot  not  of.  Yet  this  plague 
of  witchery  is  worse  than  all,  —  ay,  even 
than  the  smallpox."  He  shrugged  his 
shoulders  and  looking  down  at  the  ground, 
frowned  and  shook  his  head.  But  as  he 


A   Meeting  in  the  Forest  5 

glanced  up  at  the  maid's  troubled  counte 
nance,  his  gloom  was  dispelled  by  a  sunny 
smile.  He  reached  out  and  took  her  hand, 
and  patted  it  between  his  big  warm  palms. 
"  Dear  child,"  he  said,  "  be  not  afeared 
of  witches,  but  bethink  yourself  to  keep  so 
fair  and  shining  a  conscience  that  Satan 
and  his  hags  who  work  by  the  powers  of 
darkness  cannot  approach  you.  We  have 
a  play-actor  in  England,  a  Merry  Andrew 
of  the  town,  a  slender  fellow  withal,  yet 
possessed  of  a  pretty  wit,  for  wit,  my  little 
maid,  is  no  respecter  of  persons,  and 
springs  here  and  there,  like  as  one  rose 
grows  in  the  Queen's  garden  and  another 
twines  'round  the  doorway  of  the  poor. 
Well,  this  fellow  has  written  that,  *  far  as 
a  little  candle  throws  its  beams,  so  shines 
a  good  deed  in  a  naughty  world.'  Many 
a  time  have  I  catched  myself  smiling  at 
the  jingle,  for  it  minds  me  of  how  all  good 
children  are  just  so  many  little  candles 
shining  out  into  the  black  night  of  this 
evil  world.  When  you  are  older  grown 
you  will  perceive  that  I  spake  true  words. 
Still,  regarding  witches,  I  would  not  have 


Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 


you  o'er  bold  nor  frequent  churchyards 
by  night,  for  there,  I,  myself,  have  seen 
with  these  very  eyes,  ghosts  and  wraiths 
pale  as  blue  vapour  standing  by  the  graves. 
And  at  cockcrow  they  have  flown  away." 
He  released  her  hand.  "  Come  now,"  he 
said  lightly,  "  you  have  not  told  me  why 
you  were  made  to  stand  on  a  block  of 
wood  all  day." 

"  Good  sir,"  she  replied,  "  my  punish 
ment  was  none  too  heavy,  for  my  heart 
had  grown  carnal  and  adrift  from  God,  and 

O  ' 

the  follies  and  vanities  o'  youth  had  taken 
hold  on  me.  It  happed  in  this  wise. 
Goodwife  Higgins,  who  keeps  our  home 
since  my  dear  mother  went  to  God,  be 
forever  sweethearting  me  because  I  mind 
her  o'  her  own  little  girl  who  died  o'  the 
smallpox.  So  she  made  me  this  fair  silken 
gown  out  o'  her  wedding-silk  brought  from 
England.  Ye  can  feel  for  yourself,  good 
sir,  if  ye  like,  that  it  be  all  silk  with 
out  a  thread  o'  cotton  in  it.  Now,  Abi 
gail  Brewster,  whose  father  be  a  godly  man, 
telled  him  that  when  I  passed  her  going  to 
meeting  last  Sabbath  morn,  I  switched  my 


A  Meeting  in  the  Forest  7 

fair  silken  gown  so  that  it  rustled  in  an 
offensive  manner  in  her  ears.  So  the 
constable  came  after  me,  and  I  was  prose 
cuted  in  court  for  wearing  silk  in  an 
odious  manner.  The  Judge  sentenced 
me  to  stand  all  day  on  the  block,  near 
the  town-pump,  exposed  to  public  gaze  in 
my  fine  raiment.  Also,  he  did  look  at  me 
o'er  his  spectacles  in  a  most  awesome, 
stern,  and  righteous  fashion,  for  he  said  I 
'  drew  iniquity  with  a  cord  o'  vanity  and 
sin  with  a  cart-rope.'  Then  he  read  a 
stretch  from  the  Bible,  warning  me  to 
repent,  lest  I  grow  like  those  who  '  walk 
with  outstretched  necks,  mincing  as  they 
go.' '  She  sighed  :  "  Ye  ken  not,  sir,  how 
weary  one  grows,  standing  on  a  block, 
blinking  o'  the  sun,  first  resting  on  your 
heels,  then  tipping  forward  on  your  toes, 
and  finding  no  ease.  About  the  tenth 
hour,  as  I  could  see  by  the  sun-dial,  there 
comes  Abigail  Brewster  walking  with  her 
father.  When  I  catched  sight  o'  him  I 
put  my  hands  over  my  face,  and  weeped 
with  exceeding  loud  groans  to  show  him  I 
heartily  repented  my  wickedness  in  the 


8  Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

sight  o'  God.  But  he,  being  spiritually 
minded  at  the  time,  had  no  thought  for  a 
sinner  like  me  and  went  on.  Now,  I  was 
peeking  out  betwixt  my  fingers,  and  I  saw 
Abigail  Brewster  had  on  her  gown  o'  sad- 
coloured  linsey-woolsey.  Her  and  me  gave 
one  another  such  a  look  !  For  we  were 
both  acquainted  like  with  the  fact  that 
that  sad-coloured  linsey-woolsey  petticoat 
and  sacque  were  her  meeting-house  clothes, 
her  father,  as  I  telled  ye,  having  no  patience 
for  the  follies  o'  dress.  Beshrew  me,  sir," 
added  the  little  maid,  timidly,  "  but  I  can 
not  refrain  from  admiring  your  immoder 
ate  great  sleeves  with  the  watchet-blue 
tiffany  peeping  through  the  slashes." 

"  Sit  you  down  beside  me,  little  mis 
tress,"  said  the  Cavalier,  "  I  would  ask  a 
question  of  you.  Ho,  ho,  you  are  afeared 
of  witches !  Why,  see  the  sunset  still 
glimmers  red.  Have  you  not  a  wee  bit  of 
time  for  me,  who  am  in  sore  perplexity 
and  distress  ?  " 

"  Nay,  nay,  good  sir,"  she  rejoined 
sweetly,  "  I  be  no  afeared  o'  witches  when 
I  can  assist  a  soul  in  sore  distress,  for  as 


A   Meeting  in  the  Forest 


ye  telled  me,  a  witch  cannot  come  near  one 
who  be  on  a  good  errand." 

She  climbed  up  on  the  trunk  and  seated 
herself  beside  him,  swinging  her  sturdy, 
bare  feet  beside  his  great  high  boots. 

"  Can  you  keep  a  close  mouth,  mis 
tress  ?  "  asked  the  Cavalier. 

She  nodded.  Irresistibly,  as  her  com 
panion  remained  silent  a  moment  in  deep 
thought,  her  ringers  went  out  and  stroked 
his  velvet  sleeve.  She  sighed  blissfully 
and  folded  her  hands  in  her  lap. 

"  I  was  telled  by  a  countryman  up  the 
road  that  there  is  a  house  in  your  town 
which  has  been  recently  taken  by  a  stran 
ger.  'Tis  a  house,  I  am  informed,  with 
many  gables  and  dormer  windows."  The 
speaker  glanced  sharply  at  his  companion. 
"  Do  you  hap  to  know  the  place  ?  " 

"  Yea,  good  sir,"  she  replied  eagerly  ; 
"  the  gossips  say  it  be  a  marvel  with  its  fine 
furnishings,  though  none  o'  the  goodwives 
have  so  much  as  put  their  noses  inside  the 
door,  the  master  being  a  stern,  unsocial 
body.  But  the  Moorish  wench  who  keeps 
his  home  has  blabbed  o'  Turkey  covers 


io  Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

and  velvet  stool  cushions.  Ye  should 
hear  tell  —  " 

"  What  sort  of  looks  has  this  fine  gentle 
man,"  interrupted  the  Cavalier;  "is  he  of 
lean,  sour  countenance  —  " 

She  nodded. 

"Crafty-eyed,  tall  —  " 

"  Nay,  not  so  tall,"  she  broke  in;  "  about 
as  ye  be  in  height,  but  not  so  great  girth 
'round  the  middle.  The  children  all  run 
from  him  when  he  strolls  out  at  even-tide, 
tapping  with  his  stick,  and  frowning.  Our 
magistrate  and  minister  hold  him  in  great 
respect  as  one  o'  wit  and  learning,  with 
mickle  gold  from  foreign  parts.  The 
naughty  boys  call  him  Old  Ruddy-Beard, 
for  aught  ye  can  see  o'  his  face  be  the  tip 
o'  his  long  nose  'neath  the  brim  o'  his 
beaver-hat  and  his  red  beard  lying  on 
his  white  ruff.  Also  he  wears  a  cape  o' 
sable  velvet,  and  he  be  honoured  with  a 
title,  being  called  Sir  Jonathan  Jamie- 
son." 

During  her  description  the  Cavalier  had 
nodded  several  times,  and  when  she  fin 
ished,  his  face  was  not  good  to  look  at. 


A   Meeting  in  the  Forest  1 1 

His  eyes,  which  had  been  so  genial,  were 
now  cold  and  shining  as  his  sword. 

"  Have  I  found  you  at  last,  oh  mine 
enemy,"  he  exulted,  "  at  last,  at  last  ?  " 

Thus  he  muttered  and  talked  to  him 
self,  and  his  smile  was  not  pleasant  to  see. 
Glancing  at  the  little  maid,  he  perceived 
she  was  startled  and  shrank  from  him. 
He  patted  her  shoulder. 

"  Now,  hark  ye,  mistress,"  he  whis 
pered,  "  when  next  you  pass  this  man,  say 
softly  these  words  to  greet  his  ears  alone : 
'  The  King  sends  for  his  black  powder.' ' 

"  Perchance  he  will  think  me  a  witch 
and  I  say  such  strange  words  to  him," 
she  answered,  drawing  away ;  "  some  say 
no  one  be  more  afeared  o'  witches  than 
he." 

The  Cavalier  flung  back  his  head.  His 
laughter  rang  out  scornfully.  "  Ho,  ho," 
he  mocked,  "afeared  of  witches,  lest  they 
carry  off  his  black  heart!  He  be  indeed  a 
lily-livered  scoundrel !  Ay,  care  not  how 
much  you  do  fright  him.  At  first  he  will 
doubtless  pretend  not  to  hear  you,  still 
I  should  not  be  surprised  and  he  pause 


12  Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

and  demand  where  you  heard  such  words, 
but  you  must  say  naught  of  all  this,  e'en 
though  he  torment  you  with  much  ques 
tioning.  I  am  on  my  way  now  to  Boston 
Town.  In  a  few  days  I  shall  return." 
He  tapped  her  arm.  "  Ay,  I  shall  return 
in  state,  in  state,  next  time,  little  mistress. 
Meanwhile,  you  must  keep  faith  with  me. 
Let  him  not  suspicion  this  meeting  in  the 
forest  with  me."  He  bent  his  head  and 
whispered  several  sentences  in  her  ear. 

"  Good  sir,"  said  the  little  maid,  solemnly, 
when  he  had  finished,  "  my  King  be  next 
to  God  and  I  will  keep  the  faith.  But 
now  and  ye  will  be  pleased  to  excuse  me, 
as  it  be  past  the  supper  hour,  I  will  hasten 
home."  Saying  which,  she  slipped  down 
from  the  trunk  of  the  tree  and  bobbed  him 
a  courtesy. 

"  Nay,  not  so  fast,  not  so  fast  away," 
he  cried.  "  I  would  show  you  a  picture  of 
my  sweetest  daughter,  Elizabeth,  of  whom 
you  mind  me,  giving  me  a  great  heart- 
sickness  for  her  bonny  face  far  across  the 
seas  in  Merry  England."  From  inside 
his  doublet  he  drew  forth  a  locket,  swung 


A   Meeting  in  the  Forest  13 

on  a  slender  gold  chain,  and  opened  it. 
Within  was  a  miniature  on  ivory  of  a 
young  girl  in  court  dress,  with  dark  curls 
falling  about  a  face  which  smiled  back  at 
them  in  the  soft  twilight. 

"  She  be  good  to  look  upon  and  has  a 
comely  smile,  I  wot,"  said  the  little  Puritan 
maid  ;  "  haps  it  she  has  seen  as  many  sum 
mers  as  I,  who  be  turned  fourteen  and  for  a 
year  past  a  teacher  in  the  Dame  School." 

"  Sixteen  summers  has  she  lived,"  an 
swered  the  Cavalier.  "  Eftsoons,  she  will 
count  in  gloomier  fashion,  for  with  years 
come  woes  and  we  say  so  many  winters 
have  we  known.  But  how  comes  it  you 
are  a  teacher  in  the  Dame  School?" 

"  A  fair  and  flowing  hand  I  write,"  she 
replied,  "  though  I  be  no  great  for  spelling. 
My  father  has  instilled  a  deal  o'  learning 
into  my  pate,  but  I  be  not  puffed  up  with 
vanity  on  that  account." 

"  'Tis  well,"  said  the  Cavalier  ;  "  I  like 
not  an  unread  maid.  Neither  do  I  fancy 
one  too  much  learned."  He  glanced 
again  at  the  miniature.  From  smiling  he 
fell  to  sighing.  "  Into  what  great  girls  do 


14  Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

our  daughters  grow,"  he  murmured  ;  "  but 
yesterday,  methinks,  I  dandled  her  on 
my  knee  and  sang  her  nursery  rhymes." 
He  opened  a  leathern  bag  strapped  around 
his  waist.  Within  it  the  little  maid  caught 
a  glimpse  of  a  gleaming  array  of  knives 
both  large  and  small.  This  quite  startled 
her. 

"  Where  did  I  put  them  ?  "  he  frowned  ; 
"but  wait,  but  wait  —  "  He  felt  in  his 
pockets,  and  at  last  drew  forth  a  chain  of 
gold  beads  wrapped  in  silk.  "  My  Eliza 
beth  would  give  you  these  were  she  here," 
he  said,  "  but  she  is  far  across  the  seas." 

Rising,  he  bent  and  patted  the  little 
maid's  cheek.  "  Take  these  beads,  dear 
child,  and  forget  not  what  I  telled  you, 
while  I  am  gone  to  Boston  Town.  Yet, 
wait,  what  is  your  name  ?  " 

"  Deliverance  Wentworth,"  she  an 
swered.  With  confidence  inspired  anew 
by  the  kindly  face,  she  added,  "  I  have  a 
brother  in  Boston  Town,  who  be  a  Fellow 
o'  Harvard.  Should  ye  hap  to  cross  his 
path,  might  ye  be  pleased  to  give  him  my 
dutiful  love  ?  He  be  all  for  learning, 


A   Meeting  in  the  Forest  15 

and  carries  a  mighty  head  on  young 
shoulders." 

Then  with  another  courtesy  she  turned 
and  fled  fearfully  along  the  path,  for  the 
red  of  the  sunset  had  vanished. 

Far,  far  above  her  gleamed  two  or  three 
pale  silver  stars.  The  gloom  of  twilight 
was  rising  thickly  in  the  forest.  Bushes 
stretched  out  goblin  arms  to  her  as  she 
passed  them.  The  rustling  leaves  were  the 
whisperings  of  wizards,  beseeching  her  to 
come  to  them.  A  distant  stump  was  a  witch 
bending  over  to  gather  poisonous  herbs. 

At  last  she  reached  her  home.  A 
flower-bordered  walk  led  to  the  door. 
The  yard  was  shut  in  by  a  low  stone 
wall.  The  afterglow,  still  lingering  on  the 
peaked  gables  of  the  house,  was  reflected 
in  the  diamond-paned  windows  and  on 
the  knocker  on  the  front  door.  There 
was  no  sign  of  life.  Save  for  the  spotless 
neatness  which  marked  all,  the  place  had 
a  sombre  and  uninhabitable  air,  as  if  the 
forest,  pressing  so  closely  upon  the  modest 
farmstead,  flung  over  it  somewhat  of  its 
own  gloom  and  sadness. 


1 6  Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

Deliverance  hesitated  a  moment  at  the 
gate.  Her  fear  of  the  witches  was  great, 
but  —  she  glanced  at  the  gold  beads. 

"  I  will  say  a  prayer  all  the  way,"  she 
murmured,  and  ran  swiftly  along  the  path 
a  goodly  distance,  then  crossed  a  belt  of 
woods,  pausing  neither  in  running  nor  in 
prayerful  words,  until  she  reached  a  hollow 
oak.  In  it  Deliverance  placed  the  beads 
wrapped  in  their  bit  of  silk. 

"  For,"  she  reasoned,  "if  father,  though 
I  be  no  so  afeared  o'  father,  but  if  Good- 
wife  Higgins  set  her  sharp  eyes  on  them, 
I  should  have  a  most  awesome,  weary 
time  with  her  trying  to  find  out  where  I 
got  them.  " 

She  was  not  far  from  the  sea  and  she 
could  see  the  tide  coming  in,  a  line  of 
silver  light  breaking  into  foam.  Passing 
along  the  path  which  led  to  Boston  Town, 
she  saw  the  portly  figure  of  the  Cavalier, 
the  rich  colours  of  his  dress  faintly  to  be 
descried.  An  Indian  guide  had  joined 
him.  Both  men  were  on  foot.  Deliver 
ance,  forgetful  of  the  witches,  the  darken 
ing  night,  watched  the  travellers  as  long 


A   Meeting  in  the   Forest          17 

as  she  could  see  them  against  the  silver 
sea.  At  a  fordways  the  Cavalier  paused, 
and  the  Indian  stooped  and  took  him  on 
his  back.  This  glimpse  of  her  merry 
acquaintance,  being  thus  carried  picka 
pack  across  the  stream,  was  the  last  glimpse 
she  had  of  him  for  many  days  to  follow. 
Once  she  thought  he  waved  his  hand  to 
her  as  he  turned  his  head  and  glanced 
behind  him.  In  this  she  was  mistaken. 
He  could  not  have  seen  the  demure  figure 
of  the  little  Puritan  maiden,  standing  in 
the  deep  dusk  of  the  forest  edge. 


Chapter  II 
Sir  Jonathan's  Warning 

A  LTHOUGH  it  was  an  evening  in 
JL\.  early  June,  the  salt  breeze  blowing 
damp  and  cold  from  off  the  sea  made  Mas 
ter  Wentworth's  kitchen,  with  its  cheerful 
fire,  an  agreeable  place  for  the  goodwives 
of  the  village  to  gather  with  their  knit 
ting  after  supper. 

Goodwife  Higgins,  seated  at  her  spin 
ning-wheel,  made  but  brief  replies  to  the 
comments  of  her  guests  upon  the  forward 
behaviour  of  her  foster-child  Deliverance. 
Yet  her  glance  was  ever  cast  anxiously 
toward  the  door,  swung  half-open  lest  the 
room  should  become  too  warm. 

"  I  trow  the  naughty  baggage  deserved 
correction  to  put  to  such  ungodly  use  the 
fair  silk  ye  gave  her,"  remarked  one  portly 
dame.  "  Goody  Dennison  says  as  it  was 
your  standing-up  gown  ye  brought  from 
England  to  be  wed  in." 

18 


Sir  Jonathan's  Warning  19 

"Ay,"  said  Goodwife  Higgins,  grimly. 
Her  face  lighted  as  she  spoke,  for  the 
door  was  flung  wide  and  the  little  maid 
of  whom  they  spoke  entered,  breathless 
with  running. 

"  It  be  time  ye  were  in,"  frowned  Good- 
wife  Higgins,  a  note  of  relief  in  her  sharp 

tone.     "  I  gan  to  think  a  witch  had  catched 

» 
ye. 

"  Come,  come,  child,  stand  out  and  let 
us  see  those  fine  feathers  which  have  filled 
your  foolish  pate  with  vanity,"  cried  Goody 
Dennison. 

Deliverance  sighed  profoundly.  "  I  do 
repent  deeply  that  iniquity  and  vanity 
should  have  filled  my  carnal  heart  be 
cause  o'  this  fair  gown  o'  silk.  Ye  can 
feel  for  yourself  and  ye  like,  Goody 
Dennison,  there  be  no  thread  o'  cotton  in 
it." 

As  she  spoke  she  glanced  out  of  the 
corners  of  her  downcast  eyes  at  a  little, 
rosy,  freckled  girl,  who  sat  at  her  mother's 
side,  knitting,  but  who  did  not  look  up, 
keeping  her  sleek  brown  head  bent  reso 
lutely  over  the  half-finished  stocking. 


2O  Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

"  Have  ye  had  aught  to  eat,  child  ?  " 
asked  Goodwife  Higgins. 

Deliverance  shook  her  head. 

"And  ye  would  go  off  with  but  a  sup 
o'  milk  for  breakfast,"  scolded  the  good- 
wife,  as  she  rose  and  stirred  the  porridge 
she  had  saved.  "  Sit  ye  down  by  Abigail, 
and  I  will  bring  ye  summat  nourishing." 

Now,  Deliverance  had  stood  long  in 
the  hot  sun  with  naught  to  eat,  and  this 
and  her  long  walk  so  weighed  upon  her 
that  suddenly  she  grew  pale  and  sank  to 
the  floor. 

"  Dear  Goody,"  she  murmured  faintly, 
"  the  Lord  has  struck  my  carnal  heart 
with  the  bolt  o'  His  righteous  anger,  for 
I  wax  ill." 

That  the  welfare,  if  not  the  pleasure,  of 
their  children  lay  very  close  to  the  hearts 
of  the  Puritans,  was  shown  by  the  manner 
in  which  the  goodwives,  who  had  greeted 
Deliverance  with  all  due  severity,  dropped 
their  knitting  and  gathered  hastily  around 
her. 

"It  be  too  long  a  sentence  for  a  grow 
ing  child,  and  it  behooves  us  who  are 


Sir  Jonathan's  Warning  11 

mothers  to  tell  our  godly  magistrate  so," 
grumbled  one  hard-featured  dame. 

"  Dear  child,"  murmured  a  rosy-cheeked 
young  wife,  who  had  put  her  baby  down  to 
assist  Deliverance,  "  here  be  a  sugar-plum 
I  brought  ye.  We  must  have  remem 
brance,  gossips,"  she  added,  "  that  her 
mother  has  long  been  dead,  though 
Goodwife  Higgins  cares  for  her  and  that 
be  well,  Master  Wentworth  being  a 
dreamer.  Ye  ken,  gossips,  I  say  it  with 
no  malice,  the  house  might  go  to  rack 
and  ruin,  for  aught  he  would  care,  with 
his  nose  ever  in  the  still-room." 

"  Best  put  the  child  in  the  chimney- 
corner  where  it  be  warm,"  suggested 
Goody  Dennison  ;  "  beshrew  me,  gossips, 
the  damp  o'  these  raw  spring  nights  chills 
the  marrow  in  your  bones  more  than  the 
frosts  o'  winter." 

So  Deliverance  was  seated  on  a  stool 
next  to  Abigail  Brewster,  with  Goodwife 
Higgins'  apron  tied  around  her  neck,  a 
pewter  bowl  of  steaming  hasty-pudding  in 
her  lap,  a  mug  of  milk  conveniently  near. 

The   goodwives,  their    attention    taken 


22  Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

from  the  little  maid,  turned  their  conver 
sation  upon  witchcraft,  and  as  they  talked, 
sturdy  voices  shook  and  florid  faces 
blanched  at  every  gust  of  wind  in  the 
chimney. 

"Abigail,"  whispered  Deliverance,  "did 
ye  e'er  clap  eyes  on  Goody  Jones  sith  she 
became  a  witch  ?  " 

"  Never,"  answered  Abigail.  "  Father 
telled  me  to  run  lest  she  give  me  the  ma 
lignant  touch.  Oh  dear,  I  have  counted 
my  stitches  wrong." 

The  humming  of  Goodwife  Higgins' 
spinning-wheel  made  a  musical  accompani 
ment  to  all  that  was  said.  And  the  fire 
light  dancing  over  the  spinner's  ruddy 
face  and  buxom  figure  made  of  her  a 
pleasant  picture  as  she  guided  the  thread, 
her  busy  foot  on  the  treadle. 

Ah,  what  tales  were  told  around  the 
fireolace  of  the  New  England  kitchen 

i  O 

where  centred  all  homely  cheer  and  com 
fort,  and  the  gossips'  tongues  wagged  fast 
as  the  glancing  knitting-needles  flashed  ! 
High  in  the  yawning  chimney,  from  ledge 
to  ledge,  stretched  the  great  lugpole,  made 


Sir  Jonathan's  Warning  23 

from  green  wood  that  it  might  not  catch 
fire.  From  it  swung  on  hooks  the  pots 
and  kettles  used  in  cooking.  Bright 
andirons  reflected  the  dancing  flames  and 
on  either  side  were  the  settles.  From  the 
heavy  rafters  were  festooned  strings  of 
dried  fruit,  small  yellow  and  green  squashes, 
scarlet  peppers.  Sand  was  scattered  over 
the  floor.  Darkness,  banished  by  the  fire 
light,  lurked  in  the  far  corners  of  the 
room. 

Abigail  and  Deliverance,  to  all  outward 
appearance  absorbed  in  each  other's  soci 
ety,  were  none  the  less  listening  with  ears 
wide  open  to  whatever  was  said.  Near 
them  sat  young  wife  Tucker  that  her  baby 
might  share  the  warmth  of  the  fire.  It 
lay  on  her  lap,  its  little  red  hands  curled 
up,  the  lashes  of  its  closed  eyes  sweeping 
its  cheeks.  A  typical  Puritan  baby  was 
this,  duly  baptized  and  given  to  God. 
A  wadded  hood  of  gray  silk  was  worn 
closely  on  its  head,  its  gown,  short-sleeved 
and  low-necked,  was  of  coarse  linen 
bleached  in  the  sun  and  smelling  sweetly 
of  lavender.  The  young  wife  tilted  it 


24  Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

gently  on  her  knees,  crooning  psalms  if  it 
appeared  to  be  waking,  the  while  her  ever 
busy  hands  were  knitting  above  it.  Once 
she  paused  to  touch  the  round  cheek 
fondly  with  her  finger. 

"  Ye  were  most  fortunate,  Dame 
Tucker,"  said  one  of  the  gossips,  observ 
ing  the  tender  motion,  "  to  get  him  back 
again." 

"  Ay,"  answered  the  young  wife,  "  the 
Lord  was  merciful  to  the  goodman  and 
myself.  Ne'er  shall  I  cease  to  have  re 
membrance  o'  that  wicked  morn.  I 
waked  early  and  saw  a  woman  standing 
by  the  cradle.  c  In  God's  name,  what  come 
you  for  ? '  I  cried,  and  thereat  she  vanished. 
I  rose ;  O  woeful  sight  these  eyes  beheld  ! 
The  witches  had  taken  away  my  babe  and 
put  in  its  stead  a  changeling."  The  young 
wife  shuddered,  and  dropped  her  knitting 
to  clasp  her  baby  to  her  breast.  "  Long 
had  I  been  feared  o'  such  an  evil  and  ne'er 
oped  my  eyes  at  morn  save  with  fear  lest  the 
dread  come  true.  Ye  ken,  gossips,  a  witch 
likes  best  a  first  bairn.  There  the  change 
ling  lay  in  my  baby's  crib,  a  puny,  fretful, 


Sir  Jonathan's  Warning  25 

crying  wean,  purple  o'  lips  and  white  o' 
cheeks.  Quick  the  goodman  went  out 
and  got  me  five  eggs  from  the  black  hen, 
and  we  burnt  the  shells  and  fried  the 
yolks,  and  with  a  jar  o'  honey  (for  a  witch 
has  a  sweet  tooth)  put  the  relishes  where 
she  might  find  them  and  be  pacified.  She 
took  them  not.  All  that  day  and  the 
next  I  wept  sorely.  Yet  with  rich  milk  I 
fed  the  fretting  wean,  feeling  pity  for  it  in 
my  heart  though  it  was  against  me  to  hush 
it  to  sleep  in  my  arms.  The  night  o'  the 
second  day  the  goodman  slept  heavily,  for 
he  was  sore  o'  heart  an'  weary.  But  the 
changeling  would  not  hush  its  wailing,  so  I 
rose  and  rocked  it  until  worn  out  by  much 
grief  I  fell  asleep,  my  head  resting  on  the 
hood  o'  the  crib.  When  I  oped  my  eyes 
in  the  darkness  the  crying  was  like  that 
o'  my  own  babe.  I  hushed  my  breath  to 
listen. 

"  Quick  I  got  a  tallow  dip  and  lighted 
it  for  to  see  what  was  in  the  crib.  I  fell 
on  my  knees  and  prayed.  The  witches 
had  brought  back  my  bairn,  and  taken 
their  fretting  wean  away." 


26  Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

"  How  looked  it  ?"  asked  Deliverance, 
eagerly.  She  never  wearied  hearing  of 
the  changeling,  and  her  interest  was  as 
fresh  at  the  third  telling  of  the  story  as 
at  the  first.  And,  although  under  most 
circumstances  she  would  have  been  chid 
den  for  speaking  out  before  her  elders,  she 
escaped  this  time,  so  interested  were  the 
goodwives  in  the  tale. 

"  Full  peaked  and  wan  it  looked,"  an 
swered  the  young  wife,  solemnly,  "and 
blue  it  was  from  hunger  and  cold,  for 
no  witches'  food  will  nourish  a  baptized 
child." 

"  I  should  have  liked  to  see  where  the 
witches  took  it,  shouldn't  ye?"  whispered 
Abigail  to  Deliverance. 

"  Abigail,"  said  Deliverance,  in  a  cau 
tious  whisper,  although  the  humming  of 
the  spinning-wheel  almost  drowned  her 
voice,  "  if  ye  will  be  pleasant-mouthed 
and  not  run  tittle-tattling  upon  me  again, 
perchance  I  will  tell  ye  summat,  only  it 
would  make  your  eyes  pop  out  o'  your 
head.  Ye  be  that  simple-minded,  Abi 
gail  !  And  I  might  show  ye  summat  too, 


Sir  Jonathan's  Warning  27 

only  I  misdoubt  ye  have  a  carnal  heart 
which  longs  too  much  on  things  that  glit 
ter.  Here,  ye  can  bite  off  the  end  o'  my 
sugar-plum.  Now,  whisper  no  word  o' 
what  I  tell  ye,"  putting  her  mouth  to  the 
other's  ear,  "  I  be  on  a  service  for  his 
majesty,  King  George." 

A  door  leading  from  an  inner  room 
into  the  kitchen  opened  and  a  man  came 
out.  He  was  tall  and  hollow-chested  and 
stooped  slightly.  His  flaxen  wig,  parted 
in  the  centre,  fell  to  his  shoulders  on  either 
side  of  his  hatchet-shaped  face.  He  had 
mild  blue  eyes.  His  presence  diffused 
faint  odours  of  herbs  and  dried  flowers  and 
fragrance  of  scented  oils.  This  sweet 
atmosphere,  surrounding  him  wherever 
he  went,  heralded  his  presence  often 
before  he  appeared. 

"  Has  Deliverance  returned,  Goodwife 
Higgins?"  he  asked.  "  I  need  her  to  find 
me  the  yarrow." 

"  And  do  ye  think  I  would  not  have 
the  child  housed  at  this  hour  o'  night?" 
queried  the  goodwife,  sharply ;  "  your 
father  needs  ye,  Deliverance.  Ye  ken, 


28  Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

gossips,"  she  added  in  a  softened  voice, 
as  Master  Wentworth  retired,  "that  the 
poor  man  has  no  notion  o'  what  be  prac 
ticable.  It  be  fair  exasperating  to  a  decent, 
well-providing  body  to  care  for  him." 

Deliverance  hastily  set  the  porridge 
bowl  on  the  hearth,  and  followed  her 
father  into  the  still-room. 

Next  to  the  kitchen  the  still-room  was 
the  most  important  one  in  the  house. 
Here  were  kept  all  preserves  and  liquors, 
candied  fruits  and  spices.  From  the  raf 
ters  swung  bunches  of  dried  herbs,  the 
gathering  and  arrangement  of  which  was 
Deliverance's  especial  duty.  From  early 
spring  until  Indian  summer  did  she  work 
to  make  these  precious  stores.  With  the 
melting  of  the  snows,  when  the  Indian 
women  boiled  the  sweet  waters  of  the 
maple,  she  went  forth  to  hunt  for  winter- 
green.  Together  she  and  her  father  gath 
ered  slippery-elm  and  sassafras  bark. 
Then,  green,  fragrant,  wholesome,  ap 
peared  the  mints.  Also  there  were  mys 
terious  herbs  which  grew  in  graveyards 
and  must  be  culled  only  at  midnight. 


Sir  Jonathan's  Warning  29 

And  there  was  the  blessed  thistle,  which 
no  good  child  ever  plucked  before  she 
sang  the  verse  :  — 

"  Hail,  to  thee,  holy  herb, 

Growing  in  the  ground, 
On  the  Mount  of  Calvarie, 

First  wert  thou  found. 
Thou  art  good  for  many  a  grief 

And  healest  many  a  wound, 
In  the  name  of  Sweet  Jesu, 

I  lift  thee  from  the  ground." 

And  there  were  saffron,  witch-hazel, 
rue,  shepherd's-purse,  and  bloody-dock, 
not  to  mention  the  yearly  store  of  catnip 
put  away  for  her  kitten. 

Master  Wentworth  swung  her  up  on 
his  shoulder  so  she  could  reach  the  rafters. 

"  The  yarrow  be  tied  fifth  bunch  on  the 
further  beam,  father,"  she  said  ;  "there,  ye 
have  stopped  right  under  it." 

Her  small  fingers  quickly  untied  the 
string  and  the  great  bunch  of  yarrow  was 
in  her  arms  as  her  father  set  her  down. 
He  handed  her  a  mortar  bowl  and  pestle. 

"  Seat  yourself,  Deliverance,"  he  said, 
"  and  pound  this  into  a  paste  for  me." 


30  Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

Vigorously  Deliverance  pounded,  anx 
ious  to  return  to  Abigail. 

The  room  was  damp  and  chilly.  No 
heat  came  in  from  the  kitchen  for  the 
door  was  closed,  but  the  little  Puritan 
maiden  was  inured  to  the  cold  and 
minded  it  not.  The  soft  light  that  rilled 
the  room  was  given  by  three  dipped 
candles  made  from  the  fragrant  bay  berry 
wax.  This  wax  was  of  a  pale  green, 
almost  transparent  colour,  and  gave  forth 
a  pleasant  fragrance  when  snuffed.  An 
hour-glass  was  placed  behind  one  of  the 
candles  that  the  light  might  pass  through 
the  running  sands  and  enable  one  to 
read  the  time  at  a  glance.  At  his 
table  as  he  worked,  her  father's  shadow 
was  flung  grotesquely  on  the  wall,  now 
high,  now  low.  Into  the  serene  silence 
the  sound  of  Deliverance's  pounding 
broke  with  muffled  regularity. 

"  I  am  telled,  Master  Wentworth,"  said 
a  harsh  voice,  "  that  your  dear  and  only 
daughter,  Deliverance,  be  given  o'er  to 
vanity.  Methinks,  the  magistrate  awarded 
her  too  light  a  sentence  for  her  idle  flaunt- 


Sir  Jonathan's  Warning  31 

ings.  As  I  did  chance  to  meet  him  at 
the  tavern,  at  the  nooning-hour,  I  took 
it  upon  myself  to  tell  him,  humbly,  how 
ever,  and  in  no  spirit  of  criticism,  that  too 
great  a  leniency  accomplishes  much  evil." 

Deliverance  fairly  jumped,  so  startled 
was  she  by  the  unexpected  voice.  Now 
for  the  first  time  she  perceived  a  gentle 
man,  in  a  sable  cape,  his  booted  legs 
crossed,  and  his  arms  folded  on  his  breast, 
as  he  sat  in  the  further  corner  of  the  room. 
One  side  of  his  face  was  hidden  from  view 
by  the  illuminated  hour-glass,  but  the 
light  of  the  concealed  candle  cast  so  soft 
and  brilliant  a  glow  over  his  figure  that 
she  was  amazed  at  not  having  seen  him 
before.  His  red  beard  rested  on  the  white 
ruff  around  his  neck.  She  could  see  but 
the  tip  of  his  long  nose  beneath  his  steeple- 
crowned  hat.  Yet  she  felt  the  gaze  of 
those  shadowed  eyes  fixed  upon  her  pierc 
ingly.  None  other  than  Sir  Jonathan 
Jamieson  was  he,  of  whom  the  stranger  in 
the  forest  had  made  inquiry. 

As  she  remembered  the  words  she  was 
commissioned  to  say  to  this  man,  her  heart 


32  Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

throbbed  fast  with  fear.  She  ceased  pound 
ing.  Silently  she  prayed  for  courage  to 
keep  her  promise  and  to  serve  her  King. 

At  Sir  Jonathan's  words,  Master  Went- 
worth  glanced  up  with  a  vague  smile,  hav 
ing  barely  caught  the  drift  of  them. 

"Ah,  yes,"  he  said,  "women  are  prone 
to  care  for  fol-de-rols.  Still,  I  have  seen 
fine  dandies  in  our  sex.  I  am  minded  of 
my  little  girl's  dear  mother,  who  never 
could  abide  this  bleak  country  and  our 
sad  Puritan  ways,  sickening  for  longing 
of  green  old  England."  He  sighed. 
"  Yet,"  he  added  hastily,  "  I  criticise  not 
our  godly  magistrate's  desire  to  crush 
out  folly."  He  turned  and  peered  into 
the  mortar  bowl.  "  You  are  slow  at  get 
ting  that  smooth,  daughter." 

Deliverance  commenced  pounding  again 
hurriedly.  Although  she  looked  straight 
into  the  bowl  she  could  see  plainly  that 
stern  figure  in  the  further  corner,  the  yel 
low  candle-light  touching  brilliantly  the 
red  beard  and  white  ruff.  She  trembled 
and  doubted  her  courage  to  give  him  the 
message. 


Sir  Jonathan's  Warning  33 

But  there  was  staunch  stuff  in  this  little 
Puritan  maid,  and  as  her  father's  guest 
rose  to  depart  and  was  about  to  pass  her 
on  his  way  to  the  door,  she  looked  up. 

"  Good  sir,"  she  whispered,  "  the  King 
sends  for  his  black  powder." 

Thereat  Sir  Jonathan  jumped,  and  his 
jaw  fell  as  if  he  had  been  dealt  an  unex 
pected  blow.  He  looked  down  at  her  as 
if  he  beheld  a  much  more  terrible  sight 
than  a  little  maid,  whose  knees  knocked 
together  with  trembling  so  that  the  mor 
tar  bowl  danced  in  her  lap,  and  whose 
frightened  blue  eyes  never  left  his  face  in 
their  fascinated  stare  of  horror  at  her  own 
daring.  A  moment  he  stared  back  at  her, 
then  muttering,  he  hurried  out  into  the 
kitchen  and  slammed  the  door  behind 
him. 

"  Gossips,"  he  cried  harshly,  "  take  care 
lest  you  harbour  a  witch  in  yonder  girl." 

With  that,  wrapping  his  cape  of  sable 
velvet  around  him,  and  with  a  swing  of  his 
black  stick,  he  flung  wide  the  kitchen  door, 
and  passed  out  into  the  night. 

"  Father,"  asked   Deliverance,  timidly, 


34  Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

"  how  haps  it  that  Sir  Jonathan  comes  this 
way?" 

Master  Wentworth  answered  absent- 
mindedly,  "  What,  daughter,  you  are  con 
cerned  about  Sir  Jonathan.  Yes,  yes,  run 
and  get  him  a  mug  of  sweet  sack  and  you 
like.  Never  let  it  be  said  I  sent  from  my 
door  rich  or  poor,  without  offering  him 
cheer." 

"  Nay,  father,"  she  protested,  "  I  but 
asked  —  " 

"  Let  me  see,"  murmured  Master  Went 
worth  ;  "  to  eight  ounces  of  orris  root,  add 
powdered  cuttle-bone  of  like  quantity,  a 
gill  of  orange-flower  water.  What  said 
you,  child,"  interrupting  himself,  "  a  mug 
of  sack  for  Sir  Jonathan.  Run  quickly 
and  offer  it  to  him  lest  he  be  gone." 

Reluctantly,  Deliverance  opened  the 
door  and  stepped  out  into  the  kitchen. 
Sir  Jonathan  had  been  gone  several  mo 
ments.  She  was  astonished  to  see  the 
goodwives  had  risen  and  were  huddled  to 
gether  in  a  scared  group  with  blanched 
faces,  all  save  Goodwife  Higgins,  who 
stood  alone  at  her  spinning-wheel.  The 


Sir  Jonathan's  Warning  35 

eyes  of  all  were  directed  toward  the  still- 
room.  The  baby,  clutched  tightly  to 
its  fearful  young  mother's  breast,  wailed 
piteously. 

Deliverance,  abashed  although  she  knew 
not  why,  paused  when  half-way  across  the 
room. 

"  Look  ye,  gossips,"  cried  one,  "  look 
at  the  glint  o'  her  een." 

To  these  Puritan  dames  the  extreme 
beauty  which  the  solitary  childish  figure 
acquired  in  the  firelight  was  diabolical. 
The  reflection  of  the  dancing  flames  made 
a  radiant  nimbus  of  her  fair,  disordered 
hair,  and  brought  out  the  yellow  sheen  in 
the  silken  gown.  Her  lips  were  scarlet, 
her  cheeks  glowed,  while  her  soft  eyes, 
wondrously  blue  and  clear,  glanced  round 
the  circle  of  faces.  Before  that  innocent 
and  astonished  gaze,  first  one  person  and 
then  another  of  the  group  cowered  and 
shrank,  muttering  a  prayer. 

Through  the  door,  swung  open  by  the 
wind,  swept  a  terrible  gust,  and  with  it 
passed  in  something  soft,  black,  fluttering, 
which  circled  three  times  around  the  room, 


36  Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

each  time  drawing  nearer  to  Deliverance, 
until  at  last  it  dropped  and  fastened  itself 
to  her  hair. 

Shrieking,  the  women  broke  from  each 
other,  and  ran  from  the  room,  all  save 
Goodwife  Higgins,  who  clapped  her  apron 
over  her  head,  and  fell  to  uttering  loud 
groans. 

Master  Wentworth  came  out  from  the 
still-room,  a  bunch  of  yarrow  under  one 
arm,  and  holding  the  mortar  bowl. 

"  What  ungodly  racket  is  this  ? "  he 
asked.  "  Is  a  man  to  find  no  peace  in 
his  own  house  ?  " 

Upon  hearing  his  voice,  Goodwife  Hig 
gins'  fright  somewhat  abated.  She  drew 
down  her  apron,  and  pointed  speechlessly 
to  Deliverance  who  was  rigid  with  terror. 

"  Lord  bless  us  !  "  cried  the  goodman. 
"  Have  you  no  wits  at  all,  woman  ? "  He 
laid  the  bowl  on  the  table,  unconsciously 
letting  the  herbs  slip  to  the  floor,  and 
hastened  to  Deliverance's  assistance. 

"  You  have  catched  a  bird,  daughter, 
but  no  singing-bird,  only  a  loathsome 
bat.  Why,  Deliverance,  weep  not.  My 


Sir  Jonathan's  Warning  37 

little  Deliverance,  there  is  naught  to  be 
frightened  at.  'Tis  a  very  pitiful  thing," 
he  continued,  lapsing  into  his  musing 
tone,  while  his  long  fingers  drew  the  fair 
hair  from  the  bat's  claws  with  much  deft 
ness,  "  how  some  poor,  pitiful  creatures 
be  made  with  nothing  for  to  win  them 
grace  and  kind  looks,  only  a  hideous 
body,  so  that  silly  women  scatter  like  as 
a  viper  had  come  amongst  them  ;  and  yet, 
even  the  vipers  and  toads  have  jewelled 
eyes,  did  one  but  look  for  them." 

He  crossed  the  room,  and  put  the  bat 
outside,  then  bolted  the  door  for  the 
night. 

"  I  am  minded  of  your  dear  mother, 
daughter,"  he  said,  a  tender  smile  on  his 
face ;  "  she  was  just  so  silly  about  some 
poor,  pitiful  creature  which  had  no  fine 
looks  for  to  win  it  smiles.  But  she  was  ay 
bonny  to  the  poor,  Deliverance,  and  has 
weeped  o'er  many  a  soul  in  distress." 


Chapter  III 
The  Yellow  Bird 

GOODWIFE  HIGGINS,  who  kept 
the  home  for  the  little  maid  and 
her  father,  rose  early  the  next  day  before 
the  sun  was  up.  The  soft  light  of  dawn 
filled  the  air ;  the  eastern  sky  was  break 
ing  rosily.  A  moment,  she  stood  in  the 
doorway,  inhaling  with  delight  the  fresh, 
delicious  air,  noting  how  the  dew  lay  white 
as  hoar-frost  on  the  grass.  She  made  the 
fire  and  put  the  kettle  on  to  boil,  filling  it 
first  with  water  from  the  spring.  Then 
she  went  to  Deliverance's  room  to  awaken 
her,  loath  to  do  so,  for  she  felt  the  little 
maid  had  become  very  weary  the  previous 
day.  To  her  surprise  she  found  the  small 
hooded  bed  empty. 

"The  dear  child,"  smiled  the  goodwife, 
"  she  has  gone  to  gather  strawberries  for 
her    father's    breakfast.       She    repents,    1 
38 


The  Yellow  Bird  39 

perceive,  her  unchastened  heart,  and  seeks 
to  pleasure  me  by  an  o'er  amount  o' 
promptness." 

She  turned  to  fling  back  the  covers  of 
the  bed  that  they  might  air  properly. 
This,  however,  had  already  been  done. 
On  the  window-ledge  a  little  yellow  bird 
sat  preening  its  feathers.  It  looked  at 
her  with  its  bright,  black  eyes  and  con 
tinued  its  dainty  toilet  undisturbed.  Now, 
this  was  strange,  for  as  every  one  knew,  the 
wild  canary  was  a  shy  bird  and  flew  away 
at  the  least  approach.  The  goodwife  grew 
pale,  for  she  feared  she  was  in  the  presence 
of  a  witch,  knowing  that  witches  often 
took  upon  themselves  the  forms  of  yellow 
birds,  that  they  might  by  such  an  innocent 
and  harmless  seeming,  accomplish  much 
evil  among  unsuspecting  persons.  She 
tiptoed  out  of  the  room,  and  returned  with 
her  Bible  as  a  protection  against  any  spell 
the  witch  might  cast  upon  her. 

"  Ye  wicked  one,"  she  cried,  and  her 
voice  shook,  "ye  who  have  given  your 
self  over  from  God  to  the  Devil,  get  ye 
gone  from  this  godly  house  !  " 


40  Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

At  these  words  the  bird  flew  away,  prov 
ing  it  beyond  doubt  to  be  possessed  by  an 
evil  spirit,  for  it  is  known  that  a  witch  can 
not  bear  to  hear  the  name  of  the  Lord. 
The  goodwife  was  yet  more  affrighted  to 
see  the  bird  fly  in  the  woods  in  the  direc 
tion  in  which  the  strawberry  patch  lay. 
There  Deliverance  probably  was.  What 
power  could  avail  against  the  witch  cast 
ing  a  malignant  spell  upon  her  ?  She 
leaned  out  of  the  window,  calling,  — 

"  Deliverance,  Deliverance,  come  into 
the  house!  There  be  a  witch  abroad. 
Deliverance,  oh,  Deliverance  !  " 

Several  moments  passed.  At  last  to 
her  anxious  gaze  appeared  Deliverance, 
tripping  out  of  the  green  woods  from  the 
direction  in  which  the  bird  had  flown. 
She  was  attired  in  her  tiffany  gown,  and 
there  was  that  about  the  yellow  sheen  of 
the  fair  silk  and  the  long  braid  of  her  yel 
low  hair  which  made  her  seem  like  the 
yellow  bird  in  human  form.  The  first 
rays  of  the  sun  struck  aslant  her  head. 
She  was  singing,  and  as  she  sang  she 
smiled.  She  could  not  have  gone  to 


The  Yellow  Bird  41 

gather  berries,  for  she  carried  neither  bas 
ket  nor  dish.  It  was  evident  she  had  not 
heard  her  name  called,  for  she  paused 
startled  and  abashed,  and  the  singing  words 
died  on  her  lips,  when  she  saw  the  dame 
leaning  out  of  the  window. 

"  Deliverance,  ye  naughty  baggage," 
cried  the  goodwife,  sharply,  "  where  have 
ye  been  and  what  for  have  ye  on  your 
gown  o'  tiffany  ?  " 

The  words  were  stern,  but  her  heart  was 
beating  like  to  break  and  throbbed  in  uni 
son  with  Sir  Jonathan's  warning  the  previ 
ous  night.  "  Gossips,  take  care  lest  you 
harbour  a  witch  in  yonder  girl."  She 
hurried  to  the  kitchen  door  to  meet 
Deliverance.  As  the  little  maid  shame 
facedly  crossed  the  threshold  she  raised 
her  hand  to  strike  her,  but  dropped  it 
to  her  side  and  shook  her  head,  for  in 
her  heart  she  said  sadly,  "  And  gin  ye  be 
a  witch,  child,  sore  will  be  your  punish 
ment  and  my  hand  shall  add  no  blow." 
For  she  was  minded  of  her  own  little  girl 
who  had  died  of  the  smallpox  so  many 
years  ago.  She  prepared  the  breakfast 


42  Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

with  more  bustle  and  noise  than  usual,  as 
was  her  wont  when  disturbed. 

Deliverance,  greatly  mortified  at  having 
been  detected  and  wondering  why  she  was 
not  questioned,  went  to  her  room  and  put 
on  her  linsey-woolsey  petticoat  and  sacque. 

When  she  came  out  to  lay  the  table,  to 
her  surprise,  Goodwife  Higgins  spoke  her 
gently.  "  Go,  child,  and  call  your  father, 
for  the  Indian  bread  be  right  crusty  and 
brown  and  the  bacon  crisp." 

Deliverance  opened  the  still-room  door. 
Master  Wentworth,  attired  in  his  morn 
ing-gown,  was  preparing  his  work  for  the 
day.  He  was  celebrated  in  Boston  Town 
for  his  beauty  and  honey  waters  as  well  as 
for  his  diet-drinks.  Recently,  he  had  had 
a  large  order  from  the  Governor's  lady 
—  who  had  many  vanities  and  was  very 
fine  indeed  —  for  balls  of  sweet  gums  and 
oils,  which,  wrapped  in  geranium  leaves, 
were  to  be  burned  on  coals  to  perfume 
the  room. 

This  morning  no  accustomed  sweet 
odour  greeted  Deliverance.  Pungent,  dis 
agreeable  fumes  rose  from  the  bowl  over 


The  Yellow  Bird  43 

which  her  father  bent.  So  absorbed  was  he 
in  this  experiment  that  he  did  not  answer 
until  she  had  called  him  several  times. 

Then  he  greeted  her  kindly  and  the 
two  walked  out  to  breakfast.  Goodwife 
Higgins  watched  Deliverance  narrowly 
while  grace  was  said  and  her  heart  grew 
lighter  to  behold  the  little  maid  listen 
devoutly,  her  head  humbly  bowed,  as  she 
said  "  amen  "  with  fervour.  Nevertheless, 
Sir  Jonathan's  words  rang  in  the  dame's 
ears  all  day  :  "  Gossips,  take  care  lest  you 
harbour  a  witch  in  yonder  girl." 

Even  the  cream  was  bewitched.  The 
butter  would  not  come  until  she  had 
heated  a  horseshoe  red-hot  and  hung  it 
over  the  churn.  Also,  three  times  a 
mouse  ran  across  the  floor. 

Deliverance  hurried  through  her  morn 
ing  chores,  anxious  to  reach  the  town's 
highway  before  school  called,  that  she 
might  see  the  judges  go  riding  by  to 
court,  then  being  held  in  Salem.  A  cele 
brated  trial  of  witches  was  going  on.  In 
the  front  yard  she  found  Goodwife 
Higgins  weeding  the  flower-bed. 


44  Ye  Lyttle  Salem  Maide 

"  Be  a  good  child,  Deliverance,"  said 
the  dame,  looking  up  with  troubled  face, 
for  she  was  much  perplexed  over  the 
unseemly  conduct  of  the  little  maid. 

"  Might  ye  be  pleased  to  kiss  me  before 
I  go?"  asked  Deliverance,  putting  up  her 
cheek. 

The  goodwife  barely  touched  her  lips  to 
the  soft  cheek,  having  a  secret  fear  lest  the 
little  maid  were  in  communion  with  evil 
spirits.  Her  heart  was  so  full  of  grief 
that  her  eyes  rilled  with  tears,  and  she 
could  scarce  see  whether  she  were  pulling 
up  weeds  or  flowers. 

As  soon  as  Deliverance  had  made  the 
turn  of  the  road  and  was  beyond  the  good- 
wife's  vision,  she  began  to  run  in  her 
anxiety  to  reach  the  town's  highway  and 
see  the  reverend  judges  go  riding  by. 
The  Dame  School  lay  over  half-way  to 
town,  facing  the  road,  but  she  planned  to 
make  a  cut  through  the  forest  back  of  the 
building,  that  she  might  not  be  observed 
by  any  scholars  going  early  to  school. 
To  her  disappointment,  these  happy  plans 
were  set  at  naught  by  hearing  the  conch- 


The  Yellow  Bird  45 

shell  blown  to  call  the  children  in.  In 
her  haste  she  had  failed  to  consult  the 
hour-glass  before  leaving  home.  She  was 
so  far  away  as  to  be  late  even  as  it  was, 
and  she  did  not  dare  be  any  later.  She 
stamped  her  foot  with  vexation.  The 
school  door  was  closed  when  she  reached 
it,  out  of  breath,  cross,  and  flurried.  She 
raised  the  knocker  and  rapped.  A  prim 
little  girl  opened  the  door.  Prayers  had 
already  been  said  and  Dame  Grundle  had 
called  the  first  class  in  knitting. 

Deliverance  courtesied  low  to  the  dame, 
who  kept  the  large  room  with  the  older 
scholars.  There  were  four  rows  of 
benches  rilled  with  precise  little  girls. 
The  class  in  knitting  was  learning  the  fox- 
and-geese  pattern,  a  most  fashionable  and 
difficult  stitch,  new  from  Boston  Town. 
In  this  class  was  Abigail  Brewster. 

Deliverance  opened  the  door  into  the 
smaller  room.  At  her  entrance  soft  whis 
pers  and  gurgles  of  laughter  ceased.  She 
had  twelve  scholars,  seven  girls  and  five 
boys,  the  boys  seated  on  the  bench  back 
of  the  girls. 


46  Ye  Lyttle  Salem  Maide 

The  little  girls  were  exact  miniatures 
of  the  larger  scholars  in  Dame  Grundle's 
room.  Each  of  them  held  a  posy  for 
her  teacher,  the  frail  wild  flowers  already 
wilting.  The  boys,  devoid  of  any  such 
sentiment,  were  twisting,  wriggling,  and 
whispering.  Typical  Puritan  boys  were 
they  with  cropped  heads,  attired  in 
homespun  small-clothes,  their  bare  feet 
and  legs  tanned  and  scratched. 

Deliverance  made  all  an  elaborate 
courtesy. 

They  slipped  down  from  the  benches, 
the  girls  bobbing  and  the  boys  ducking 
their  heads,  in  such  haste  that  two  of 
them  knocked  together  and  commenced 
quarrelling.  Deliverance,  with  a  vigorous 
shake  of  each  small  culprit,  put  them  at 
opposite  ends  of  the  bench.  The  first 
task  was  the  study  of  the  alphabet.  A  buzz 
of  whispering  voices  arose  as  the  children 
conned  their  letters  from  books  made 
of  two  sheets  of  horn  :  on  one  side  the 
alphabet  was  printed  and  on  the  other 
the  Lord's  Prayer.  The  humming  of  the 
little  voices  over  their  A,  B,  C's  made  a 


The  Yellow  Bird  47 

pleasant  accompaniment  to  their  teacher's 
thought,  who,  with  every  stitch  in  the 
sampler  she  was  embroidering,  wove  in 
a  vision  of  herself  in  a  crimson  velvet 
gown  and  stomacher  worked  with  gold 
thread,  such  as  were  worn  by  the  little 
court  lady,  the  Cavalier's  sweetest  daugh 
ter.  Growing  conscious  of  a  disturbance 
in  class  she  looked  up. 

"  Stability  Williams,"  she  said  sternly, 
"  can  ye  no  sit  still  without  jerking  around 
like  as  your  head  was  loosed  ?  " 

Stability's  tears  flowed  copiously  at  the 
reproof. 

"  Please,  ma'am,"  spoke  up  Hannah 
Sears,  "  he's  been  pulling  o'  her  hair." 

Deliverance's  sharp  eyes  spied  the 
guilty  offender. 

"  Ebenezer  Gibbs,"  said  she,  "  stop  your 
wickedness,  and  as  for  ye,  Stability  Wil 
liams,  cease  your  idle  soughing." 

For  awhile  all  was  quiet.  Then,  there 
broke  forth  a  muffled  sob  from  Stabil 
ity,  followed  by  an  irrepressible  giggle 
from  the  boys.  Deliverance  stepped 
down  from  the  platform  and  rapped 


48  Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

Ebenezer  Gibbs'  head  smartly  with  her 
thimble. 

"  Ye  rude  and  ill-mannered  boy,"  she 
cried ;  "  have  ye  no  shame  to  be  pulling 
Stability  Williams'  hair  and  inticing  others 
to  laugh  at  your  evil  doings?  Ye  can  just 
come  along  now  and  stand  in  the  crying- 
corner." 

The  crying-corner  was  the  place  where 
the  children  stood  to  weep  after  they  had 
been  punished.  Pathetic  record  of  child 
ish  grief  was  this  corner,  the  pine  boards 
black  with  the  imprint  of  small  grimy 
fingers  and  spotted  with  tears  from  little 
wet  faces.  Doubtless  Deliverance  rapped 
the  offender  more  severely  than  she  in 
tended,  for  he  wept  steadily.  Although 
she  knew  he  deserved  the  reproof,  his 
crying  smote  her  heart  sorely. 

"  Ebenezer  Gibbs,"  she  said,  after  a 
while,  "  when  ye  think  ye  have  weeped 
sufficient  long,  ye  can  take  your  seat." 

But  he  continued  to  weep  and  sniffle 
the  entire  morning,  not  even  ceasing  when 
his  companions  had  their  resting-minute. 
The  day  was  quite  spoiled  for  Deliverance 


The  Yellow  Bird  49 

by  the  sight  of  the  tiny  figure  with  the 
cropped  head  pressed  close  in  the  corner, 
as  the  culprit  rested  first  on  one  foot  and 
then  the  other. 

Altogether  she  was  very  glad  when 
Dame  Grundle  rang  the  bell  for  dismissal, 
and  she  could  put  on  the  children's  things 
and  conduct  them  home.  It  was  a 
pleasant  walk  to  town  through  the  woods. 
Deliverance,  at  the  head  of  her  little  pro 
cession,  always  entered  the  village  at  an 
angle  to  pass  the  meeting-house  where  all 
important  news  was  given  forth  and  public 
gatherings  held.  The  great  front  door 
faced  the  highway  and  was  the  town  bulle 
tin  board.  Sometimes  a  constable  was 
stationed  near  by  to  read  the  message  aloud 
to  the  unlettered.  A  chilling  wind  swept 
down  the  road  this  morning  as  Deliver 
ance  and  her  following  drew  near. 

Inside  the  meeting-house  the  great 
witch-trial  was  still  in  session.  A  large 
crowd,  which  could  not  be  accommodated 
inside,  thronged  the  steps  and  peered  in 
through  the  windows.  The  sun  which 
had  risen  so  brightly,  had  disappeared. 


50  Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

The  gray  sky,  the  raw  air,  hung  gloomily 
over  the  scene,  wherein  the  sad-coloured 
garments  of  the  gentlefolk  made  a  back 
ground  for  the  bright  bodices  of  the  good- 
wives,  and  the  red,  green,  and  blue  doublets 
of  the  yeomen.  Soldiers  mingled  with 
the  throng.  So  much  noise  had  disturbed 
the  court  that  the  great  door  had  been 
ordered  closed.  On  the  upper  panels 
wolves'  heads  (nailed  by  hunters  in  proof 
of  their  success  that  they  might  receive 
the  bounty),  with  grinning  fangs  and  blood 
trickling  to  the  steps,  looked  down  upon 
the  people. 

The  children  with  Deliverance  grew 
frightened  and  clutched  at  her  dress,  try 
ing  to  drag  her  away,  but  she,  eager  to  hear 
whatever  news  there  was,  silenced  them 
peremptorily. 

Suddenly  she  heard  a  strange  sound. 
Glancing  down  she  beheld  one  of  her 
scholars,  crawling  on  his  hands  and  knees, 
mewing  like  a  cat.  Another  child  imi 
tated  this  curious  action,  and  yet  another. 
A  fourth  child  screamed  and  fell  in  con 
vulsions.  In  a  few  moments  the  panic 


The  Yellow  Bird  51 

had  spread  to  them  all.  The  children 
were  mad  with  terror.  One  little  girl 
began  barking  like  a  dog,  still  another 
crowed  like  a  cock,  flapping  her  arms  as 
though  they  were  wings. 

The  crowd,  disturbed  by  the  shrill 
cries,  turned  its  attention  and  pressed 
around  the  scene  of  fresh  excitement. 
Faces  of  hearty  women  and  stout  men 
blanched. 

"  Even  the  babes  be  not  spared,"  they 
cried  ;  "  see,  they  be  bewitched." 

Goodwife  Gibbs  broke  from  the  rest, 
and  lifted  up  her  little  son  who  lay  in  con 
vulsions  on  the  dusty  road.  "  The  curse 
o'  God  be  on  the  witch  who  has  done  this," 
she  cried  wildly ;  "  let  her  be  revealed  that 
she  may  be  punished." 

The  child  writhed,  then  grew  quiet;  a 
faint  colour  came  back  into  his  face.  His 
eyelids  quivered  and  unclosed.  Deliver 
ance  called  him  by  name,  bending  over 
him  as  he  lay  in  his  mother's  arms.  As  she 
did  so  he  struck  her  in  the  face,  a  world 
of  terror  in  his  eyes,  screaming  that  she  was 
the  witch  and  had  stuck  pins  in  him. 


52  Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

"Dear  Lord,"  cried  the  little  maid, 
aghast,  raising  her  eyes  to  heaven,  "ye  ken 
I  but  rapped  his  pate  for  sniffling  and 
larfing  in  class." 

But  strange  rumours  were  afloat  regard 
ing  Deliverance  Wentworth.  Sir  Jona 
than's  words  were  on  every  gossip's 
tongue  :  "  Gossips,  take  care  lest  you  har 
bour  a  witch  in  yonder  girl." 

Naturally,  at  the  convulsed  child's 
words,  which  seemed  a  confirmation  of 
that  warning,  the  good  people  drew  away, 
shuddering,  each  man  pressing  against  his 
neighbour,  until  they  formed  a  circle  a 
good  distance  back  from  the  little  assistant 
teacher  of  the  Dame  School. 

Thus  Deliverance  stood  at  noonday, 
publicly  disgraced,  sobbing,  with  her 
hands  over  her  face  in  the  middle  of  the 
roadway ;  an  object  of  hatred  and  abhor 
rence,  with  the  screaming  children  clutch- 

*  o 

ing  at  her  dress,  or  crawling  at  her  feet. 

But  suddenly  her  father,  who,  return 
ing  from  his  herb-gathering,  had  pushed 
his  way  to  the  edge  of  the  crowd  and 
perceived  Deliverance,  stepped  out  and 


The  Yellow  Bird  53 

took  his  daughter  by  the  hand.  He 
spoke  sternly  to  those  who  blocked  the 
way,  so  that  the  people  parted  to  let  them 
pass.  Master  Wentworth  was  a  man  of 
dignity  and  high  repute  in  those  parts. 

As  the  two  walked  home  hand  in  hand, 
Deliverance,  with  many  tears,  related  the 
morning's  events  ;  how  in  some  anger  she 
had  rapped  Ebenezer  Gibbs'  head  with 
her  thimble,  and  how  he  had  cried  thereat. 

"  I  am  ashamed  of  you,  Deliverance," 
said  her  father.  "  Have  you  no  heart  of 
grace  that  you  must  needs  be  filled  with 
evil  and  violence  because  of  the  naughti 
ness  of  a  little  child  ?  Moreover,  if  you 
had  been  discreet  all  this  mortification  had 
not  befallen  you.  How  many  times  have 
you  been  telled,  daughter,  not  to  idle  on 
the  way,  ogling,  gossiping,  and  craning 
your  neck  about  for  curiosity  ?  And  now 
we  will  say  nothing  more  about  it,"  he 
ended.  "  Only  do  you  remember,  De 
liverance,  that  when  people  are  given  over 
to  foolishness,  and  there  is  a  witch  panic, 
it  behooves  the  wise  to  be  very  prudent, 
and  to  walk  soberly,  with  shut  mouth  and 


54  Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

downcast  eyes,  so  that  no  man  may  point 
his  finger  and  accuse  them.  Methinks 
Goodwife  Gibbs'  boy  is  coming  down  with 
a  fever  sickness.  Remind  me  that  I  brew 
a  strengthening  draught  for  him  to-night." 


Chapter   IV 

In  which    Demons   assault   the   Meeting 
house 

THE  Sabbath  day  dawned  clear  with 
a  breeze  blowing  soft,  yet  cool  and 
invigorating,  from  off  the  sea. 

But  the  brightness  of  the  day  could  not 
lighten  the  hearts  of  the  villagers,  de 
pressed  by  the  terrible  witch-trials. 

Master  Wentworth,  however,  main 
tained  a  certain  peace  in  his  home,  which, 
lying  on  the  outskirts  of  the  town,  was 
just  beyond  the  circle  of  village  gossip. 
Moreover,  he  sternly  checked  any  tend 
ency  in  Goodwife  Higgins  or  Deliverance 
to  comment  on  the  panic  that  was  abroad. 
So  of  all  the  homes  in  Salem  his  little 
household  knew  the  deepest  peace  on  the 
morn  of  that  memorable  Sabbath. 

"  Goodwife,"  he  said,  passing  his  cup 
for  a  third  serving  of  tea,  "  your  Sabbath 
55 


56  Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

face  is  full  as  bonny  a  thing  to  look  at 
and  warms  the  heart,  as  much  as  your  tea 
and  muffins  console  an  empty  stomach." 

And  the  goodwife  replied  with  some 
asperity  to  conceal  her  pleasure  at  the 
remark,  for,  being  comely,  she  delighted 
to  be  assured  of  the  fact,  "  Ay,  the  cook's 
face  be  bonny,  and  the  tea  be  well  brewed. 
Ye  have  a  flattering  tongue,  Master 
Wentworth." 

Then  Master  Wentworth,  stirring  his  tea 
which  had  a  sweetening  of  molasses,  re 
lated  how,  having  once  had  a  chest  of  tea 
sent  him  from  old  England,  he  had  por 
tioned  part  of  it  among  his  neighbours. 
The  goodwives,  being  ignorant  of  its  use, 
had  boiled  it  well  and  flung  the  water 
away.  But  the  leaves  they  kept  and  sea 
soned  as  greens. 

Now,  this  little  story  was  as  delicious  to 
Master  Wentworth  as  the  flavour  of  his 
tea,  and  being  an  absent-minded  body, 
withal  possessed  of  a  most  gentle  sense  of 
humour,  he  told  it  every  Sabbath  breakfast. 

He  continued  to  converse  in  this  gentle 
mood  with  Goodwife  Higgins  and  Deliv- 


Demons  assault  the  Meeting-house      57 

erance,  as  the  three  wended  their  way  to 
church. 

Very  cool  and  pleasant  was  the  forest 
road.  Now  and  then  through  the  green 
they  caught  glimpses  of  the  white  turret 
of  the  meeting-house,  as  yet  without  a 
bell.  The  building  was  upon  a  hill,  that 
travellers  and  hunters  might  be  guided  by 
a  sight  of  it. 

Often  there  passed  them  a  countryman, 
the  goodwife  mounted  behind  her  hus 
band  on  a  pillion.  Later  they  would  pass 
the  horse  tied  to  a  tree  and  see  the  couple 
afoot  far  down  the  road.  This  was  the 
custom  when  there  was  but  one  horse  in 
the  family.  After  awhile  the  children, 
carrying  their  shoes  and  stockings,  would 
reach  the  horse  and,  as  many  as  could,  pile 
on  the  back  of  the  much  enduring  nag 
and  ride  merrily  the  rest  of  the  way. 

Master  Wentworth  and  his  family  ar 
rived  early.  The  watchman  paced  the 
platform  above  the  great  door,  beating  a 
drum  to  call  the  people  to  service.  Sev 
eral  horses  were  tied  to  the  hitching-post. 
Some  of  the  people  were  wandering  in  the 


58  Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

churchyard  which  stretched  down  the 
hill-slope. 

Others  of  the  sad-eyed  Puritans  gath 
ered  in  little  groups,  discussing  a  new  and 
terrible  doctrine  which  had  obtained  cur 
rency.  It  was  said  that  the  gallows  had 
been  set  up,  not  only  for  the  guilty  but 
for  those  who  rebuked  the  superstition  of 
witchery.  The  unbelievers  would  be  made 
to  suffer  to  the  fullest  extent  of  the  law. 

And  another  fearful  rumour  was  being 
circulated  to  the  effect  that  a  renowned 
witch-finder  of  England  had  been  sent 
for.  He  was  said  to  discover  a  witch  by 
some  mark  on  the  body,  and  then  cause 
the  victim  to  be  bound  hand  and  foot  and 
cast  into  a  pond.  If  the  person  floated 
he  was  pronounced  guilty  and  straightway 
drawn  out  and  hanged.  But  he  who  was 
innocent  sank  at  once. 

Soldiers  brought  from  Boston  Town 
to  quell  any  riots  that  might  arise,  added 
an  unusual  animation  to  the  scene.  Lieu- 
tenant-Governor  Stoughton  and  the  six 
other  judges  conducting  the  trials,  were 
the  centre  of  a  group  of  the  gentry. 


Demons  assault  the  Meeting-house     59 

Deliverance  and  Abigail  Brewster 
strolled  among  the  tombstones  reading 
their  favourite  epitaphs.  The  two  little 
maids,  having  the  innocent  and  happy 
hearts  of  childhood,  had  found  only  pleas 
urable  excitement  in  the  witch-panic  until 
the  morning  Deliverance  had  been  accused 
by  her  pupils.  But  they  believed  this 
affair  had  blown  over  and  remained  only 
a  thrilling  subject  for  conversation.  Both 
felt  the  Devil  had  made  an  unsuccessful 
assault  upon  Deliverance,  and,  as  she 
wrote  in  her  diary,  sought  to  destroy  her 
good  name  with  the  "  Malice  of  Hell." 

During  meeting  Deliverance  sat  with 
Goodwife  Higgins  on  the  women's  side 
of  the  building.  Her  father,  being  of  the 
gentry,  was  seated  in  one  of  the  front  pews. 

Through  the  unshuttered  windows  the 
sunlight  streamed  in  broadly,  and  as  the 
air  grew  warm  one  could  smell  the  pine 
and  rosin  in  the  boards  of  the  house. 
Pushed  against  the  wall  was  the  clerk's 
table  with  its  plentiful  ink-horn  and  quills. 

The  seven  judges,  each  of  whom  had, 
according  to  his  best  light,  condemned  the 


60  Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

guilty  and  let  the  innocent  go  free,  during 
the  past  week,  now  sat  in  a  row  below  the 
pulpit.  Doubtless  each  felt  himself  in 
the  presence  of  the  Great  Judge  of  all 
things  and,  bethinking  himself  humbly  of 
his  own  sins,  prayed  for  mercy. 

The  soldiers  stacked  their  firearms  and 
sat  in  a  body  on  the  men's  side  of  the 
church.  Their  scarlet  uniforms  made  an 
unusual  amount  of  colour  in  the  sober 
meeting-house. 

The  long  hours  dragged  wearily. 

Little  children  nodded,  and  their  heads 
fell  against  their  mothers'  shoulders,  or 
dropped  into  their  laps.  Sometimes  they 
were  given  lemon  drops  or  sprigs  of  sweet 
herbs.  One  solemn  little  child,  weary  of 
watching  the  great  cobwebs  swinging  from 
the  rafters,  began  to  count  aloud  his  alpha 
bet,  on  ten  moist  little  fingers.  He  was 
sternly  hushed. 

The  tithing-man  ever  tiptoed  up  and 
down  seeking  to  spy  some  offender.  When 
a  woman  or  maid  grew  drowsy,  he  brushed 
her  chin  with  the  end  of  his  wand  which 
bore  a  fox's  tail.  But  did  some  goodman 


Demons  assault  the  Meeting-house     61 

nod,  he  pricked  him  smartly  with  the 
thorned  end. 

Deliverance  loved  the  singing,  and  her 
young  voice  rang  out  sweetly  as  she  stood 
holding  her  psalm-book,  her  blue  eyes 
devoutly  raised.  And  the  armed  watch 
man  pacing  the  platform  above  the  great 
door,  his  keen  glance  sweeping  the  sur 
rounding  country  for  any  trace  of  Indians 
or  Frenchmen,  joined  lustily  in  the  sing 
ing. 

Many  voices  faltered  and  broke  this 
morning.  Few  families  but  missed  some 
beloved  face.  Over  one  hundred  persons 
in  the  little  village  were  in  prison  accused 
of  witchery. 

The  minister  filled  his  prayers  with  the 
subject  of  witchcraft  and  made  the  barn- 
like  building  ring  with  the  text :  "  Have 
I  not  chosen  you  twelve,  and  one  of  you 
is  a  devil  ?  " 

At  this  Goodwife  Cloyse,  who  sat  next 
to  Deliverance,  rose  and  left  the  meeting 
house  in  displeasure.  She  believed  the 
text  alluded  to  her  sister,  who  was  then  in 
prison  charged  with  having  a  familiar  spirit. 


62  Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

The  next  day  she  too  was  cried  upon  and 
cast  into  prison  as  a  witch,  although  a 
woman  of  purest  life. 

Deliverance  thrilled  with  terror  at  the 
incident.  She  felt  she  had  been  seated 
next  to  a  witch,  and  this  in  God's  own 
house.  Moreover  she  imagined  a  sudden 
pain  in  her  right  arm,  and  dreaded  lest  a 
spell  had  been  cast  on  her. 

The  day  which  opened  with  so  fearful 
an  event  was  to  end  yet  more  ominously. 

Following  the  sermon  came  the  pleasant 
nooning-hour.  The  people  gathered  in 
family  groups  on  the  meeting-house  steps, 
or  sought  the  shade  of  the  nearby  trees 
and  ate  their  lunches.  The  goodwives 
provided  bountifully  for  the  soldiers,  and 
the  judges  ate  with  the  minister  and  his 
family. 

Toward  the  end  of  the  nooning-hour 
Master  Wentworth  sent  Deliverance  to 
carry  to  Goodwife  Gibbs  the  tea  he  had 
brewed. 

"  Father  sends  ye  this,  goodwife,"  said 
the  little  maid;  "it  be  a  strengthening 
draught  for  Ebenezer.  He  bids  me  tell 


Demons  assault  the  Meeting-house     63 

ye  a  fever  sickness  has  seized  o'  the 
child." 

The  goodwife  snatched  the  bottle  and 
flung  it  violently  from  her. 

"  Get  ye  gone  with  your  brew,  ye  witch- 
maid  !  No  fever  sickness  ails  my  little 
son,  but  a  spell  ye  have  put  upon  him." 
She  began  to  weep  sorely.  Duty  com 
pelled  her  to  attend  meeting,  the  while  her 
heart  sickened  that  she  must  leave  her 
little  son  in  the  care  of  a  servant  wench. 

The  gossips  crowded  around  her  in 
sympathy.  Dark  looks  were  cast  upon 
Deliverance,  and  muttered  threats  were 
made.  Their  voices  rose  with  their  grow 
ing  anger,  until  the  minister,  walking  arm- 
in-arm  with  Master  Wentworth,  heard  them 
and  was  roused  to  righteous  indignation. 

"Hush,  gossips,"  he  said  sternly,  "we 
will  have  no  high  words  on  the  Lord's 
holy  day,  but  peace  and  comfort  and  meek 
and  contrite  hearts,  else  we  were  hypo 
crites.  We  will  continue  our  discussion 
next  week,  Master  Wentworth,"  he  added, 
turning  to  his  companion,  "  for  the  noon 
ing-hour  is  done." 


64  Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

Master  Wentworth,  who  was  given  to 
day-dreaming,  had  scarce  heard  the  hub 
bub,  and  had  not  even  perceived  his 
daughter,  who  was  standing  near  by.  So, 
a  serene  smile  on  his  countenance,  he  fol 
lowed  the  minister  into  the  meeting-house. 

His  little  maid,  very  sorrowful  at  this 
fresh  trouble  which  had  come  upon  her, 
and  not  being  able  to  attract  his  attention 
before  he  entered  the  building,  wandered 
away  into  the  churchyard. 

That  afternoon  the  tithing-man  missed 
her  in  the  congregation.  So  he  tiptoed 
out  of  the  meeting-house  in  search  of  her. 

He  called  up  softly  to  the  watchman,  — 

"  Take  your  spy-glass  and  search  if  ye 
see  aught  o'  Mistress  Deliverance  Went 
worth." 

The  watchman  started  guiltily,  and 
leaned  over  the  railing  with  such  sudden 
show  of  interest  that  the  tithing-man  grew 
suspicious.  His  sharp  eyes  spied  a  faint 
wavering  line  of  smoke  rising  from  the 
corner  of  the  platform.  So  he  guessed 
the  smoke  rose  from  the  overturned  bowl 
of  a  pipe,  and  that  the  watchman  had  been 


Demons  assault  the  Meeting-house     65 

smoking,  a  comfortable  practice  which  had 
originated  among  the  settlers  of  Virginia. 
Being  in  a  good  humour,  he  was  disposed 
to  ignore  this  indiscretion  on  the  part  of 
the  watchman. 

The  latter  had  now  fixed  his  spy-glass 
in  the  direction  of  the  churchyard. 

<c  I  see  a  patch  o'  orange  tiger-lilies  far 
down  the  hillside,"  he  announced,  "  and 
near  by  be  a  little  grave  grown  o'er  with 
sweetbrier.  And  there,  with  her  head 
pillowed  on  the  headstone,  be  Mistress 
Deliverance  Wentworth,  sound  in  sleep." 

Thus  the  little  maid  was  found  by  the 
tithing-man,  and  wakened  and  marched 
back  to  church. 

As  the  two  neared  the  entrance  the 
watchman  called  her  softly,  "  Hey,  there, 
Mistress  Deliverance  Wentworth,  what 
made  ye  fall  asleep  ?  " 

"  The  Devil  set  a  snare  for  my  feet," 
she  answered  mournfully,  not  inclined  to 
attach  too  much  blame  to  herself. 

"  Satan  kens  his  own,"  said  the  watch 
man  severely,  quickly  hiding  his  pipe 
behind  him. 


66  Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

Now,  at  the  moment  of  the  disgraced 
little  maid's  entrance,  a  great  rush  of  wind 
swept  in  and  a  timber  in  the  rafters  was 
blown  down,  reaching  the  floor,  however, 
without  injury  to  any  one. 

Many  there  were  who  later  testified  to 
having  seen  Deliverance  raise  her  eyes 
just  before  the  timber  fell.  These  be 
lieved  that  she  had  summoned  a  demon, 
who,  invisibly  entering  the  meeting-house 
on  the  wings  of  the  wind,  had  sought  to 
destroy  it. 

The  sky,  lately  so  blue,  grew  leaden 
gray.  So  dark  it  became,  that  but  few 
could  see  to  read  the  psalms.  Thunder 
as  yet  distant  could  be  heard,  and  the  roar 
ing  of  the  wind  in  the  tree-tops,  and  ever 
in  the  pauses  of  the  storm,  the  ominous 
booming  of  the  ocean. 

The  watchman  came  inside.  The  tith- 
ing-man  closed  and  bolted  the  great  door. 

The  minister  prayed  fervently  for  mercy. 
None  present  but  believed  that  an  assault 
of  the  demons  upon  God's  house  was 
about  to  be  made. 

The  rain  began  to  fall  heavily,  beating 


Demons  assault  the  Meeting-house     67 

in  at  places  through  the  rafters.  Flashes 
of  lightning  would  illumine  the  church, 
now  bringing  into  vivid  relief  the  row  of 
judges,  now  the  scarlet-coated  soldiers,  or 
the  golden  head  of  a  child  and  its  terror- 
stricken  mother,  again  playing  on  and 
about  the  pulpit  where  the  impassioned 
minister,  his  face  ghastly  above  his  black 
vestments,  called  unceasingly  upon  the 
Lord  for  succour. 

The  building  was  shaken  to  its  founda 
tions.  Still  to  an  heroic  degree  the  peo 
ple  maintained  their  self-control. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  more  brilliant 
flash  than  usual,  followed  by  a  loud  crash. 

When  this  terrific  shock  had  passed, 
and  each  person  was  beginning  to  realize 
dimly  that  he  or  she  had  survived  it,  the 
minister's  voice  was  heard  singing  the 
fifty-second  psalm. 

"  Mine  enemies  daily  enterprise 

to  swallow  me  outright ; 
To  fight  against  me  many  rise, 
O,  Thou  most  high  of  might." 

And  this  first  verse  he  sang  unwaver 
ingly  through  alone. 


68  Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

With  the  commencement  of  the  next 
verse,  some  few  brave,  but  quavering 
voices  joined  him. 

"What  things  I  either  did  or  spake 

they  wrest  them  at  their  wil, 
And  al  the  councel  that  they  take 
is  how  to  work  me  il." 

But  before  the  third  verse  ended,  all 
were  singing,  judges  and  soldiers,  and  the 
sweet  voices  of  the  women  and  the  shrill 
notes  of  the  little  children. 

"  They  al  consent  themselves  to  hide 

close  watch  for  me  to  lay: 
They  spie  my  paths  and  snares  have  layd 
to  take  my  life  away." 

From  this  time  on  the  storm  abated  its 
violence. 

When  at  last  the  benediction  was  pro 
nounced,  the  soldiers  and  men,  in  constant 
dread  of  attacks  by  Indians,  left  the  meet 
ing-house  before  the  women  and  children, 
thus  making  sure  the  safe  exit  of  the 
latter. 

The  people,  crowding  out,  beheld  the 
setting  sun  shining  brightly.  The  odour 


Demons  assault  the  Meeting-house     69 

of  the  rain  and  the  fresh  earth  greeted 
them.  All  the  trees  in  the  leafy  greenness 
of  June  quivered  with  fresh  life. 

The  hail  lay  white  upon  the  ground  as 
petals  new-fallen  from  cherry  trees  in 
bloom. 

All  nature  was  refreshed. 

Only  the  mighty  oak  that  had  stood 
near  the  entrance  was  split  in  twain. 

And  the  people, —  the  goodmen  with 
heads  uncovered, —  in  the  mellow  light  of 
the  departing  day,  rendered  thanks  unto 
God  that  they  had  been  delivered. 


Chapter  V 
The  Coming  of  the  Town   Beadle 

THE  next  morning,  Goodwife  Hig- 
gins  and  Deliverance  heard  steps 
coming  around  the  side  of  the  house. 

"  Who  can  it  be  at  this  hour  o'  the 
dawning?"  asked  the  goodwife.  "It  be 
but  the  half-hour  past  six  o'  the  minute- 
glass." 

"Ye  don't  hear  the  tapping  o'  a  stick 
like  as  it  might  be  Sir  Jonathan,  goody," 
asked  Deliverance,  listening  fearfully.  "  I 
like  not  his  ruddy  beard  and  his  sharp, 
greeny-gray  eyes." 

But  as  she  spoke,  the  form  of  the 
Town  Beadle  with  his  Bible  and  staff  of 
office  darkened  the  doorway. 

"  Has  our  cow  Clover  gotten  loose 
again  ?  "  cried  Deliverance,  remembering 
the  meadow-bars  were  broken.  One  of 
the  chief  duties  connected  with  the  office 


The   Coming  of  the  Town   Beadle     71 

of  Beadle  was  to  arrest  stray  cows  and 
impose  a  fine  on  their  owners. 

Goodwife  Higgins  said  never  a  word, 
only  watched  the  Beadle,  her  face  grown 
white. 

"  As  much  as  three  weeks  ago  and 
over,"  continued  Deliverance,  deftly  dry 
ing  a  pewter  platter,  "  as  I  was  cutting 
across  the  meadow  to  Abigail  Brewster's 
back  door,  I  saw  those  broken  bars. 
1  Hiram',  says  I  to  the  bound  boy, '  ye  had 
best  mend  those  bars,  or  Clover  and  her 
calf  will  get  loose  and  ye  get  your  ears 
boxed  for  being  a  silly  loon,  and  ye  ken 
ye  be  that,  Hiram.'  '  I  ken,'  says  he. 
Hold  your  dish-cloth  over  the  pan, 
goody,"  she  added,  "it  be  dripping  on 
the  floor." 

While  she  spoke,  the  Beadle  had  been 
turning  over  the  leaves  of  his  Bible.  He 
laid  it  open  face  downward  on  the  table, 
to  keep  the  place,  while  he  carefully  ad 
justed  his  horn-bowed  spectacles  on  his 
nose.  He  cleared  his  throat. 

"  Peace  be  on  this  household,"  he 
announced  pompously,  "and  suffer  the 


72  Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

evil-doer  to  be  brought  out  from  his 
dark  ways  and  hiding-place  into  the  pub 
lic  highway  where  all  may  be  warned  by 
his  example."  Having  delivered  himself 
of  these  words  he  raised  the  Bible  and 
read  a  stretch  therefrom.  "  Thou  shalt 
not  suffer  a  witch  to  live,  neither  wizards 
that  peep  and  mutter.  .  .  .  Regard  not 
them  that  have  familiar  spirits,  neither 
seek  after  them  to  be  defiled  by  them." 
He  closed  the  book  and  removed  his 
spectacles.  Then  he  lifted  his  staff  and 
tapped  Deliverance  on  the  shoulder.  "  I 
arrest  ye  in  the  name  of  the  law,"  he  cried 
in  a  loud  voice,  "  to  await  your  trial  for 
witchery,  ye  having  grievously  afflicted 
your  victim,  Ebenezer  Gibbs." 

Deliverance  stared  horrified  at  him  and, 
although  she  opened  her  mouth  to  speak, 
her  voice  was  gone. 

Goodwife  Higgins  dusted  off  the  seat 
of  a  stool  with  her  apron  and  pushed  it 
over  to  the  Beadle.  "  Sit  ye  down,  good- 
man,  and  I  will  bring  ye  a  glass  o'  butter 
milk.  Also  I  will  look  for  the  maid's 
father  who  be  herb-gathering.  As  for  ye, 


The  Coming  of  the  Town   Beadle     73 

Deliverance,  go  to  your  room  and  wait 
there  until  this  matter  be  settled."  For 
it  had  flashed  into  her  mind  that  if  she 
could  get  out  of  the  kitchen,  while  De 
liverance  went  to  her  room,  she  could  slip 
around  the  corner  of  the  house  and  assist 
the  little  maid  out  of  the  bedroom  window, 
bidding  her  conceal  herself  in  the  forest. 

"  Nay,"  said  the  Beadle,  "  I  have  no 
time  to  dilly-dally,  as  I  have  five  stray 
cows  to  return  this  morning.  Yet  I  will 
have  a  glass  o'  buttermilk  to  wet  my 
throat.  I  will  watch  the  witch-maid  that 
she  escape  not  while  ye  be  gone." 

The  goodwife,  the  tears  rolling  down 
her  face,  hurried  to  the  spring  where  the 
buttermilk  was  kept. 

"I  be  no  so  wicked  as  ye  make  out," 
said  Deliverance,  finding  her  voice. 

"  Touch  me  not,"  cried  the  Beadle, 
jumping  back  in  wondrous  spry  fashion 
for  so  pompous  a  man,  and  in  his  fright 
overturning  the  stool,  "  nay,  come  not  so 
near.  Take  your  hands  off  my  doublet. 
Would  ye  cast  a  spell  on  me  ?  Approach 
no  nearer  than  the  length  o'  this  staff." 


74  Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

He  turned  the  stool  right  side  up  again 
and  seated  himself  to  drink  the  butter 
milk  the  dame  brought  him. 

"  Come,"  he  said,  rising  and  giving 
back  the  mug  when  he  had  finished,  "  I 
have  no  time  to  dally  with  five  cows  to  be 
gotten  in."  He  drew  a  stout  rope  from 
his  pocket.  "  Tie  her  hands  behind  her, 
gossip,"  he  commanded,  "  I  hanker  not  for 
to  touch  a  witch-maid.  Nay,  not  so  easy, 
draw  that  knot  tighter." 

Goodwife  Higgins,  weeping,  did  as  he 
bade,  then  rose  and  put  the  little  maid's 
cap  on  her.  She  slipped  some  cookies 
into  Deliverance's  work-pocket. 

"  I  be  not  above  cookies  myself,"  re 
marked  the  Beadle,  quite  jovially,  and 
he  helped  himself  bountifully  from  the 
cooky-jar. 

"  My  father  will  come  after  me  and 
bring  me  back,"  murmured  Deliverance, 
with  quivering  lips.  "  Weep  not,  dear 
goody,  for  he  will  explain  how  it  be  a 
fever  sickness  that  aileth  Ebenezer  Gibbs, 
and  no  spell  o'  witchery." 

"  Step  out  ahead  o'   me,"  commanded 


The  Coming  of  the  Town   Beadle     75 

the  Beadle,  as  he  put  the  end  of  his  long 
staff  against  her  back.  "  There,  keep  ye 
at  that  distance,  and  turn  not  your  gaze 
over  your  shoulder  at  me.  I  ken  your 
sly  ways." 

Solemnly  around  the  house  and  out  of 
the  gate  he  marched  her,  and  as  the  latter 
swung  to  behind  them,  he  turned  and 
waved  his  hand  to  Goodwife  Higgins. 
"  Farewell,  gossip,"  he  cried,  "  I  have  rid 
ye  o'  a  witch." 

Down  the  forest  road  into  the  town's 
highway,  he  marched  Deliverance.  Many 
turned  to  look  at  them  and  drew  aside 
with  a  muttered  prayer.  The  little  maid 
was  greatly  relieved  that  they  met  no 
naughty  boys  to  hoot  and  call  derisively 
after  her.  They  were  already  at  their 
books  with  the  schoolmaster. 

At  last  they  reached  the  jail,  in  front  of 
which  the  old  jailer  sat  smoking. 

"  Bless  my  soul,"  he  piped,  "  'tis  a 
pretty  maid  to  be  a  witch,  Beadle.  Bide 
ye  at  the  stoop  a  bit  until  I  get  my  bunch 
o'  keys."  He  hobbled  down  the  corridor 
inside  and  disappeared,  returning  in  a  few 


76  Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

moments  jangling  a  bunch  of  keys.  He 
stopped  half-way  down  the  hall,  and  un 
locking  a  heavy  oaken  door,  beckoned 
them  to  follow. 

"  Step  briskly,  Mistress  Deliverance," 
commanded  the  Beadle,  poking  her  with 
his  staff. 

The  cell  to  which  she  was  shown  was 
long  and  very  narrow,  and  lighted  by  a 
small  barred  window  set  high  in  the  wall 
opposite  the  door.  An  apple  tree  grow 
ing  in  Prison  Lane  thrust  its  twigs  and 
leaves  between  the  bars.  A  straw  bed  was 
the  only  furniture.  An  iron  chain,  nearly 
the  length  of  the  cell,  was  coiled  in  one 
corner. 

"  Beshrew  me  if  I  like  the  looks  o'  that 
chain,"  said  Deliverance  to  herself;  "  I  be 
not  at  all  minded  to  go  in."  She  wrinkled 
her  nose  and  sniffed  vigorously.  "  The 
place  has  an  ill  savour.  Methinks  the 
straw  must  be  musty,"  she  added  out 
loud. 

"Ye  shall  have  fresh  to  lay  on  to 
night,"  piped  the  jailer,  "  but  step  in,  step 
in." 


The  Coming  of  the  Town   Beadle     77 

"  Ay,"  echoed  the  Beadle,  "  step  in  ;  " 
and  he  poked  her  again  in  the  back  with 
his  stick  in  a  merry  fashion  quite  his  own. 

Sorely  against  her  will,  Deliverance 
complied.  The  jailer  followed  her  in 
and  bent  over  the  chain. 

"  Take  care  lest  she  cast  a  spell  on  ye  to 
make  your  bones  ache,"  advisedthe  Beadle, 
standing  safely  outside  the  threshold. 

"  I  be  no  feared,"  answered  the  jailer, 
whom  long  experience  and  familiarity  with 
witches  had  rendered  impervious,  "but  the 
lock  on  this  chain  ha'  rusted  an'  opens 
hard." 

"  Concern  yourself  not,"  rejoined  the 
Beadle ;  "  the  maid  be  in  no  hurry,  I  wot, 
and  can  wait."  He  laughed  hugely  at  his 
little  joke,  and  began  munching  one  of  the 
seed-cookies  he  had  brought  in  his  doublet 
pocket. 

Nothing  could  have  exasperated  De 
liverance  more  than  to  see  the  fat  Beadle 
enjoying  the  cookies  she  herself  had  helped 
to  make,  and  so  she  cast  such  a  resentful 
look  at  him  that  he  drew  quickly  back  into 
the  corridor  beyond  her  gaze. 


78  Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

"If  e'er  I  set  eyes  on  a  witch,"  he  mut 
tered  solemnly,  "  I  have  this  time,  for  she 
has  a  glint  in  her  een  that  makes  my  blood 
run  cold." 

At  the  moment  her  attention  was  at 
tracted  to  the  Beadle,  Deliverance  felt  a 
hand  clasp  her  left  foot,  and  in  another 
instant  the  jailer  had  snapped  the  iron 
ring  around  her  ankle.  The  other  end 
of  the  chain  was  fastened  to  the  wall. 

The  Beadle's  fat  face  appeared  a  moment 
at  the  side  of  the  door.  "  A  good  day  to 
ye,  Mistress  Deliverance  Wentworth," 
quoth  he,  "  I  must  away  to  find  my  cows. 
Mistress  Deliverance  Wentworth,  I  say, 
ye  had  best  confess  when  ye  come  to  trial." 

"Ay,"  retorted  Deliverance,  "and  ye 
had  best  be  careful  lest  a  witch  get  ye. 
Methinks  I  dreamed  one  had  catched  hold 
on  ye  by  the  hair  o'  your  head." 

"  An'  I  ha'  heerd  tell  o'  evil  spirits  tak 
ing  on  the  form  o'  a  cow,"  put  in  the  old 
jailer.  He  cackled  feebly  in  such  mali 
cious  fashion  that  Deliverance  shuddered, 
and  felt  more  fear  of  this  old  man  with 
his  bent  back  and  toothless  jaws  than  of 


The  Coming  of  the  Town   Beadle     79 

the  pompous  Beadle.  To  her  relief  he 
did  not  address  her,  but  left  the  cell,  lock 
ing  the  door  after  him. 

All  that  day  Deliverance  waited  eagerly, 
but  her  father  did  not  come  for  her,  and 
she  feared  he  had  been  taken  ill.  She 
was  confident  Goodwife  Higgins  would 
come  in  his  stead,  and  so  sure  was  she 
of  this  that  she  slept  sweetly,  even  on 
the  musty  straw  the  jailer  had  neglected 
to  change.  But  when  the  second  day 
passed,  and  then  the  third,  and  the  fourth, 
until  at  last  the  Sabbath  came  again,  and 
in  all  that  time  no  one  had  come,  nor  sent 
word  to  her,  she  grew  despondent,  fearing 
the  present  and  dreading  the  future  under 
the  terrible  strain  of  hope  deferred.  The 
jailer  would  have  naught  to  say  to  her. 
At  last  she  ceased  to  expect  any  change, 
sitting  listlessly  on  her  straw  bed,  rinding 
one  day  like  another,  waiting  only  for  her 
trial  to  come. 


Chapter   VI 
The  Woman  of  Ipswich 

THOSE  were  terrible  times  in  Salem. 
Day  after  day  the  same  scenes  were 
enacted.  The  judges  with  their  cavalcade 
came  in  pomp  from  Ipswich,  and  rode 
solemnly  down  the  street  to  the  meeting 
house. 

The  people  were  as  frantic  now  lest 
they  or  their  friends  be  accused  of  witch 
craft,  as  they  had  formerly  been  fearful  of 
suffering  from  its  spells. 

That  craving  for  excitement  which  had 
actuated  so  many  of  the  possessed,  the 
opportunity  for  notoriety  long  coveted 
and  at  last  put  within  reach  of  the  coars 
est  natures,  now  began  to  be  regarded  in 
their  true  light.  Moreover,  there  was  a 
great  opening  for  the  wreaking  of  private 
hatreds,  and  many,  to  quiet  their  uneasy 
consciences,  persuaded  themselves  that 
80 


The   Woman  of  Ipswich  81 

their  enemies  were  in  league  with  the 
Devil.  But  this  zeal  in  pushing  the 
prosecutions  was  becoming  dangerous. 
For  the  accused  person,  confessing,  and 
so  granted  his  liberty,  would  straightway 
bring  charges  against  his  accusers. 

The  signs  of  witchery  multiplied  in 
number.  Certain  spots  upon  the  body 
were  accounted  marks  of  the  Devil.  Were 
the  victims  from  age  or  stupefaction  un 
able  to  shed  tears,  it  was  counted  against 
them.  The  most  ordinary  happenings 
of  life,  viewed  in  the  light  of  this  super 
stition,  acquired  an  unnatural  significance. 

There  were  those  who  walked  abroad, 
free,  but  bearing  the  burden  of  a  wounded 
conscience.  Many  of  these  found  intoler 
able  the  loathing  and  fear  which  greeted 
them,  and  desired  that  they  might  have 
died  before  they  had  falsely  confessed  to 
a  crime  of  which  they  were  not  guilty. 

There  were  rumours,  that  for  any  con 
tumacious  refusal  to  answer,  the  barbarous 
common  English  law  —  peine  forte  et  dure 
—  would  be  brought  in  usage. 

Two    dogs,    regarded    accomplices    in 


82  Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

the  horrid  crime,  were  hanged  with  their 
owners. 

A  child  not  more  than  four  or  five  years 
old  was  also  committed  as  a  witch.  Her 
alleged  victim  showed  the  print  of  small 
teeth  in  his  arm  where  she  had  bitten  him. 

Unbelievers  were  overwhelmed  with 
evidence.  Had  not  the  laws  of  England 
for  over  one  hundred  and  fifty  years  been 
in  force  against  witches  ?  Thirty  thou 
sand  had  been  executed,  and  Parliament 
had  lately  appointed  a  witch-finder,  who, 
when  he  had  discovered  all  the  remaining 
witches  in  England,  so  it  was  said,  was  to 
be  sent  to  the  colonies.  Had  not  King 
James  written  a  book  against  sorcerers 
and  those  possessed  by  the  Evil  One  ? 

Archbishop  Jewell  had  begged  Queen 
Bess  to  burn  all  found  guilty  of  the 
offence.  Above  all,  the  Lord  Chief  Jus 
tice  of  England  had  condemned  them, 
and  written  a  book  from  the  Bible  upon 
the  subject. 

Two  weeks  from  the  time  she  was  put 
in  prison,  Deliverance  was  brought  to 
trial. 


The  Woman  of  Ipswich  83 

So  high  a  pitch  had  the  excitement 
reached,  so  wrought  to  a  frenzied  condi 
tion  were  the  villagers,  that  the  authorities 
had  been  obliged  to  take  extreme  measures, 
and  had  forbidden  every  one  except  the 
minister  and  officers  of  the  law  to  visit  the 
prisoner. 

Thus  the  little  maid  had  not  seen  one 
familiar,  loving  face  during  the  two  weeks 
previous  to  her  trial. 

Aside  from  her  deep  trouble  and  anxiety 
for  fear  her  father  were  ill,  she  grew  des 
perately  weary  of  the  long  monotonous 
days.  Sometimes  she  amused  herself  by 
writing  the  alphabet  or  some  Bible  verse 
on  the  hard  earth  floor  with  the  point  of 
the  pewter  spoon  that  was  given  her  with 
her  porridge.  Again  she  quite  forgot  her 
unhappiness,  plaiting  mats  of  straw. 

Short  as  her  confinement  had  been,  she 
had  lost  her  pretty  colour,  and  her  hands 
had  acquired  an  unfamiliar  whiteness. 
She  had  never  been  released  from  the  iron 
chain,  it  being  deemed  that  ordinary  fast 
enings  would  not  hold  a  witch. 

A    woman,    accused    like    herself,    was 


84  Ye  Lyttle  Salem  Maide 

placed  in  the  same  cell.  She  was  brought 
from  Ipswich,  owing  to  the  over-crowded 
condition  of  the  jail  in  that  village.  For 
two  days  and  nights,  Deliverance  had 
wept  in  terror  and  abhorrence  of  her 
companion.  Yet  some  small  comfort  had 
lain  in  the  fact  that  the  woman  was  fast 
ened  by  such  a  short  chain  in  the  further 
corner  that  she  could  not  approach  the 
little  maid.  Several  times  she  had  essayed 
to  talk  to  Deliverance,  but  in  vain.  The 
little  maid  would  put  her  hands  over  her 
ears  at  the  first  word. 

One  night,  Deliverance  had  awakened, 
not  with  a  start  as  from  some  terrible 
dream,  but  as  naturally  as  if  the  sunlight, 
shining  on  her  own  little  bed  at  home, 
had  caused  her  to  open  her  eyes.  So 
quiet  was  this  awakening  that  she  did  not 
think  of  her  surroundings,  but  lay  looking 
at  the  corner  of  the  window  visible  to  her. 
She  saw  the  moon  like  pure,  bright  gold 
behind  the  apple-leaves.  After  awhile 
she  became  conscious  of  some  one  near  by 
praying  softly.  Then  she  thought  that 
whoever  it  was  must  have  been  praying 


The  Woman  of  Ipswich  85 

a  long  time,  and  that  she  had  not  observed 
it ;  just  as  one  often  pays  no  attention  to 
the  murmur  of  a  brook  running,  hidden 
in  the  woods,  until,  little  by  little,  the 
sound  forces  itself  upon  his  ear,  and  then 
he  hears  nothing  but  the  singing  of  the 
water.  So  now  she  raised  herself  on  her 
elbow  and  listened. 

In  the  darkness  the  cell  seemed  rilled 
with  holy  words ;  then  she  knew  it  was 
the  witch  praying,  and  in  her  prayers  she 
remembered  Deliverance.  Thereat  the 
little  maid's  heart  was  touched. 

"  Why  do  ye  pray  for  me  ? "  she  asked. 

"  Because  you  are  persecuted  and  sorely 
afflicted,"  came  the  answer. 

"  I  ken  your  voice,"  said  Deliverance ; 
"ye  be  the  witch-woman  condemned  to 

die   to-morrow.      I    heard    the  jailer   say 

» 
so. 

"  I  am  condemned  by  man,"  answered 
the  woman,  "  but  God  shall  yet  maintain 
my  innocence." 

"  But  ye  will  be  dead,"  said  Deliverance. 

"  I  shall  have  gone  to  my  Father  in 
heaven,"  replied  the  woman,  and  the 


86  Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

darkness  hid  her  worn  and  glorified  face, 
"  but  my  innocence  will  be  maintained 
that  others  may  be  saved." 

"  Do  ye  think  that  I  will  be  saved  ?  " 
asked  Deliverance. 

"  Of  what  do  they  accuse  you  ?  "  asked 
her  companion. 

"  O'  witchery,"  answered  Deliverance  ; 
and  she  began  to  weep. 

But  the  woman,  although  she  might 
not  move  near  her,  comforted  her  there 
in  the  darkness. 

"  Weep  not  that  men  persecute  you, 
dear  child.  There  is  another  judgment. 
Dear  child,  there  is  another  judgment." 

For  a  long  time  there  was  silence. 
Then  the  woman  spoke  again.  "  Dear 
child,"  she  said,  "  I  have  a  little  son  who 
is  a  cripple.  Should  you  live  and  go 
free,  will  you  see  that  he  suffers  not  ?  " 

"Where  bides  he?"  asked  Deliver 
ance. 

"  In  Ipswich,"  came  the  reply.  cc  He 
was  permitted  to  be  with  me  there  in  the 
jail,  but  when  I  was  brought  to  Salem, 
he  was  taken  from  me.  Will  they  be 


The   Woman  of  Ipswich  87 

kind  to  him,  think  you,  though  he  be  a 
witch's  child  ?  " 

"  I  ken  not,"  answered  Deliverance. 

"  Think  you  they  would  harden  their 
hearts  against  one  so  small  and  weak,  with 
a  crooked  back  ?  "  asked  the  woman. 

Deliverance  knitted  her  brows,  and 
strove  to  think  of  something  comforting 
she  could  say,  for  the  woman's  words 
troubled  her  heart.  Suddenly  she  sat  up 
eagerly,  and  there  was  a  ring  of  hope  in 
her  sweet,  young  voice. 

"  I  remember  summat  which  will  com 
fort  ye,"  she  cried,  "and  I  doubt  not  the 
Lord  in  His  mercy  put  it  into  my  mind 
to  tell  ye."  She  paused  a  moment  to 
collect  her  thoughts. 

"  I  am  waiting,"  said  the  woman,  wist 
fully  ;  "  dear  child,  keep  me  not  wait- 
ing."  _ 

"  Listen,"  said  Deliverance,  solemnly  ; 
"  there  be  a  boy  in  the  village  and  his 
name  be  Submit  Hodge.  He  has  a  great 
hump  on  his  back  and  bandy  legs  —  " 

"  Thus  has  my  little  son,"  interrupted 
the  woman. 


Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 


"  And  he  walks  on  crutches,"  continued 
Deliverance. 

"  My  little  son  is  o'er  young  yet  for 
crutches,"  said  the  woman.  "  I  have  always 
carried  him  in  my  arms." 

"  And  one  day  he  was  going  down  the 
street,"  said  Deliverance,  resuming  her 
narrative,  "  when  some  naughty  boys 
larfed  at  him  and  called  him  jeering 
names  —  " 

A  smothered  sob  was  heard  in  the  other 
end  of  the  cell. 

"  Then  what  should  hap,"  continued 
Deliverance,  "  but  our  reverend  judge  and 
godly  parson  walking  arm-in-arm  along 
the  street  in  pious  converse,  I  wot  not.  I 
saw  the  judge  who  was  about  to  pass  his 
snuff-box  to  the  parson,  forget  and  put  it 
back  in  his  pocket,  and  his  face  go  red  all 
at  once,  for  he  had  spied  the  naughty  boys. 
He  was  up  with  his  walking-stick,  and  I 
thought  it  was  like  to  crack  the  pate  o' 
Thomas  Jenkins,  who  gave  over  larfing 
and  began  to  bellow.  But  the  parson  told 
him  to  cease  his  noise ;  then  he  put  his 
arm  around  Submit  Hodge.  Ye  ken  I 


The  Woman  of  Ipswich  89 

happed  to  hear  all  this  because  I  was 
going  to  a  tea-party  with  my  patchwork, 
and  I  just  dawdled  along  very  slow  like, 
a-smelling  at  a  rose  I  picked,  but  with  ears 
wide  open. 

"And  I  heard  our  parson  tell  the  naughty 
boys  that  Submit  was  the  Lord's  afflicted, 
and  that  it  was  forbid  in  His  Holy  Word 
e'er  to  treat  rudely  one  who  was  blind  or 
lame  or  wanting  in  gumption  or  good 
wits.  '  For,'  he  said,  ( they  are  God's 
special  care.  And  it  be  forbid  any  man  to 
treat  them  ill.'  With  that  the  judge  put 
his  hand  in  his  pocket  and  drew  forth  a 
handful  of  peppermint  drops  for  Submit. 
And  being  a  high-tempered  body,  he 
cracked  another  boy  over  his  pate  with 
his  walking-stick.  c  'Twill  holpen  ye  to 
remember  your  parson's  words,'  quoth  he. 
And  then  he  and  the  parson  walked  on 
arm-in-arm.  When  I  passed  Thomas 
Jenkins  who  was  bellowing  yet,  I  larfed 
and  snickered  audible-like,  for  I  ne'er 
liked  naughty  boys.  It  be  a  goodly  sight 
to  clap  eyes  on  Submit  these  days,  so  blithe 
and  gay.  Nobody  dare  tease  the  lad." 


90  Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

"You  comfort  me  greatly,"  said  the 
woman ;  "  the  Lord's  words  were  in  my 
heart,  but  in  my  misery  I  had  nigh  for 
got  them.  You  have  given  me  peace. 
Should  you  be  saved,  you  will  not  forget 
my  little  son.  Though  you  be  but  a 
young  maid,  God  may  grant  you  grace 
to  holpen  him  as  is  motherless." 

"  What  be  his  name  ?  "  asked  Deliver 
ance. 

"  'Tis  Hate-Evil  Hobbs,"  answered  the 
woman  ;  tc  he  lives  in  Ipswich." 

"  I  will  get  father  to  take  me  there,  and 
I  be  saved,"  answered  Deliverance,  drow 
sily;  "  now  I  will  lie  down  and  go  to  sleep 
again,  for  I  be  more  wore-out  a-pining  and 
a-weeping  o'er  my  sad  condition  than  e'er 
I  be  after  a  long  day's  chores  at  home." 

She  stretched  herself  out  on  the  straw 
and  pillowed  her  head  on  her  arm. 

"  Good-night,  dear  child,"  said  the 
woman.  "  I  will  pray  that  God  keep  us 
in  the  hollow  of  His  hand." 

Deliverance,  drifting  into  profound 
slumber,  scarce  heard  her  words.  She 
awoke  late.  The  morning  sunshine  filled 


The  Woman  of  Ipswich  91 

her  cell.  She  was  alone.  In  the  corner 
of  the  cell,  where  the  woman  had  lain, 
were  the  irons  which  had  fastened  her  and 
her  straw  pallet.  Deliverance  never  saw 
her  again. 


Chapter    VII 
The  Trial  of  Deliverance 

AT  last  one  fair  June  day  brought  her 
trial. 

Her  irons  were  removed,  and  she  was 
conducted  by  the  constable  with  a  guard 
of  four  soldiers  to  the  meeting-house.  In 
the  crowd  that  parted  at  the  great  door  to 
make  way  for  them  were  many  familiar 
faces,  but  all  were  stern  and  sad.  In  all 
eyes  she  read  her  accusation.  The  grim 
silence  of  this  general  condemnation  made 
it  terrible  ;  the  whispered  comments  and 
the  looks  cast  upon  her  expressed  stern 
pity  mingled  with  abhorrence. 

On  the  outskirts  of  the  throng  she 
observed  a  young  man  of  ascetic  face  and 
austere  bearing,  clothed  in  black  velvet, 
with  neck-bands  and  tabs  of  fine  linen. 
He  wore  a  flowing  white  periwig,  and 
was  mounted  on  a  magnificent  white 
92 


The  Trial  of  Deliverance          93 

horse.  In  one  hand  he  held  the  reins,  in 
the  other,  a  Bible. 

Upon  entering  the  meeting-house, 
Deliverance  was  conducted  by  the  Beadle 
to  a  platform  and  seated  upon  a  stool, 
above  the  level  of  the  audience  and  in 
plain  sight. 

In  front  of  the  pulpit,  the  seven  judges 
seated  in  a  row  faced  the  people.  Clothed 
in  all  the  dignity  of  their  office  of  crim 
son  velvet  gowns  and  curled  white  horse 
hair  wigs,  they  were  an  imposing  array. 
One  judge,  however,  wore  a  black  skull 
cap,  from  beneath  which  his  brown  locks, 
streaked  with  gray,  fell  to  his  shoulders, 
around  a  countenance  at  once  benevolent 
and  firm,  but  which  now  wore  an  expres 
sion  revealing  much  anguish  of  mind. 
This  was  the  great  Judge  Samuel  Sewall, 
who,  in  later  years,  was  crushed  by  sor 
row  and  mortification  that  at  these  trials 
he  had  been  made  guilty  of  shedding 
innocent  blood,  so  that  he  rose  in  his  pew 
in  the  Old  South  Church  in  Boston 
Town,  acknowledging  and  bewailing  his 
great  offence,  and  asking  the  prayers  of 


94  Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

the  congregation  "  that  God  would  not 
visit  the  sin  of  him  or  of  any  other  upon 
himself,  or  any  of  his,  nor  upon  the 
land." 

In  the  centre  of  the  group  sat  Lieu- 
tenant-Governor  Stoughton,  chosen  to  be 
chief  justice,  in  that  he  was  a  renowned 
scholar,  rather  than  a  great  soldier.  Hard 
and  narrow  as  he  was  said  to  be,  he  yet 
possessed  that  stubbornness  in  carrying 
out  his  convictions  of  what  was  right, 
which  exercised  in  a  better  cause  might 
have  won  him  reputation  for  wisdom 
rather  than  obstinacy. 

To  the  end  of  his  days  he  insisted  that 
the  witch-trials  had  been  meet  and  proper, 
and  that  the  only  mistakes  made  had  been 
in  checking  the  prosecutions.  It  was 
currently  reported  that  when  the  panic 
subsided,  and  the  reprieve  for  several  con 
victed  prisoners  came  from  Governor 
Phipps  to  Salem,  he  left  the  bench  in 
anger  and  went  no  more  into  that  court. 

"  For,"  said  he,  "  we  were  in  a  fair  way 
to  clear  the  land  of  witches.  Who  it  is 
that  obstructs  the  cause  of  justice,  I  know 


The  Trial  of  Deliverance          95 

not.  The  Lord  be  merciful  unto  the 
country  !  " 

On  the  left  of  the  prisoner  was  the 
jury. 

After  Deliverance  had  been  duly  sworn 
to  tell  the  truth,  she  sat  quietly,  her  hands 
folded  in  her  lap.  Now  and  then  she 
raised  her  eyes  and  glanced  over  the  faces 
upturned  to  hers.  She  observed  her 
father  not  far  distant  from  her.  But  he 
held  one  hand  over  his  eyes  and  she  could 
not  meet  his  gaze.  Beside  him  sat  Good- 
wife  Higgins,  weeping. 

There  was  one  other  who  should  have 
been  present,  her  brother  Ronald,  but  he 
was  nowhere  to  be  seen. 

The  authorities  had  not  deemed  it  wise 
to  send  for  him,  as  it  was  known  he  had  to 
a  certain  extent  fallen  in  with  dissenters 
and  free-thinkers  in  Boston  Town,  and  it 
was  feared  that,  in  the  hot  blooded  impet 
uosity  of  youth,  he  might  by  some  dis 
turbance  hinder  the  trial. 

The  first  witness  called  to  the  stand 
was  Goodwife  Higgins. 

Deliverance,  too  dazed  with  trouble  to 


96  Ye  Lyttle  Salem  Maide 

feel  any  active  grief,  watched  her  with  dull 
eyes. 

Weeping,  the  good  dame  related  the 
episode  of  finding  the  prisoner's  bed 
empty  one  morning,  and  the  yellow  bird 
on  the  window-ledge.  Groans  and  hisses 
greeted  her  testimony.  There  was  no 
reason  to  doubt  her  word.  It  was  plainly 
observed  that  she  was  suffering,  and  that 
she  walked  over  her  own  heart  in  telling 
the  truth.  It  was  not  simply  terror  and 
superstition  that  actuated  Goodwife  Hig- 
gins,  but  rather  the  stern  determination 
bred  in  the  very  bone  and  blood  of  all 
Puritans  to  meet  Satan  face  to  face  and 
drive  him  from  the  land,  even  though 
those  dearest  and  best  beloved  were 
sacrificed. 

The  next  witness  was  the  prisoner's 
father.  The  heart-broken  man  had 
nothing  to  say  which  would  lead  to  her 
conviction.  Save  the  childish  naughti 
ness  with  which  all  parents  were  obliged 
to  contend,  the  prisoner  had  been  his 
dear  and  dutiful  daughter,  and  God  would 
force  them  to  judge  her  righteously. 


The  Trial  of  Deliverance          97 

"  She  has  bewitched  him.  She  has  not 
even  spared  her  father.  See  how  blind  he 
is  to  her  sinfulness,"  the  whisper  passed 
from  mouth  to  mouth.  And  hearts  hard 
ened  still  more  toward  the  prisoner. 

Master  Wentworth  was  then  dismissed. 
While  on  the  stand  he  had  not  glanced  at 
his  daughter.  Doubtless  the  sight  of  her 
wan  little  face  would  have  been  more  than 
he  could  have  endured. 

Sir  Jonathan  Jamieson  was  then  called 
upon  to  give  his  testimony.  As  his  name 
was  cried  by  the  constable,  Deliverance 
showed  the  first  signs  of  animation  since 
she  had  been  taken  from  the  jail.  Surely, 
she  thought,  he  who  understood  better 
than  she  the  meaning  of  her  words  to 
him,  would  explain  them  and  save  her 
from  hanging.  Her  eyes  brightened,  and 
she  watched  him  intently  as  he  advanced 
up  the  aisle.  A  general  stir  and  greater 
attention  on  the  part  of  the  people  was 
apparent  at  his  appearance.  A  chair  was 
placed  for  him  in  the  witness-box,  for  he 
was  allowed  to  sit,  being  of  the  gentry. 
As  usual  he  was  clothed  in  sombre  velvet. 


98  Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

He  seated  himself,  took  off  his  hat  and 
laid  it  on  the  floor  beside  his  chair.  De 
liverance  then  saw  that  the  hair  on  his 
head  was  quite  as  red  as  his  beard,  and 
that  he  wore  it  cropped  short,  uncovered 
by  a  wig.  Deliberately,  while  the  judges 
and  people  waited,  he  drew  off  his  leath 
ern  gauntlets  that  he  might  lay  his  bare 
hand  upon  the  Bible  when  he  took  the 
oath. 

Deliverance  for  once  forgot  her  fear  of 
him.  She  leant  forward  eagerly.  So  near 
was  he  that  she  could  almost  have  touched 
him  with  her  hand. 

"  Oh,  sir,"  she  cried,  using  strong  old 
Puritan  language,  "  tell  the  truth  and 
mortify  Satan  and  his  members,  for  he 
has  gotten  me  in  sore  straits." 

"  Hush,"  said  one  of  the  judges,  sternly, 
"  let  the  prisoner  keep  silent." 

"  Methinks  that  I  be  the  only  one  not 
allowed  to  speak,"  said  Deliverance  to 
herself,  "  which  be  not  right,  seeing  I 
be  most  concerned."  And  she  shook 
her  head,  very  greatly  perplexed  and 
troubled. 


The  Trial  of  Deliverance 


99 


Sir  Jonathan  was  then  asked  to  relate 
what  he  knew  about  the  prisoner.  With 
much  confidence  he  addressed  the  court. 
Deliverance  was  astonished  at  the  mild 
accents  of  his  voice  which  had  formerly 
rung  so  harshly  in  her  ears. 

"  I  have  had  but  short  acquaintance 
with  her,"  he  said,  "  though  I  may  have 
passed  her  often  on  the  street,  not  ob 
serving  her  in  preference  to  any  other 
maid ;  but  some  several  weeks  ago  as  I 
did  chance  to  stop  at  the  town-pump  for 
a  draught  o'  cold  water,  the  day  being 
warm  and  my  throat  dry,  I  paused  as  is 
meet  and  right  before  drinking  to  give 
thanks,  when  suddenly  something  moved 
me  to  glance  up,  and  I  saw  the  prisoner 
standing  on  a  block  near  by,  laughing  ir 
reverently,  which  was  exceeding  ill-man 
nered." 

At  this  Deliverance's  cheeks  flushed 
scarlet,  for  she  knew  his  complaint  was 
quite  just.  "  I  did  not  mean  to  laugh," 
she  exclaimed  humbly,  "  but  some  naughty 
boys  had  pinned  a  placard  o'  the  edge  o' 
your  cape,  and  'twas  a  fair  comical  sight." 


ioo         Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

At  this  interruption,  the  seven  judges 
all  frowned  upon  her  so  severely  that  she 
did  not  dare  say  another  word. 

"  Now,  while  I  did  not  suspicion  her 
at  the  time,"  continued  Sir  Jonathan,  "  I 
was  moved  to  think  there  was  a  spell  cast 
upon  the  water,  for  after  drinking  I  had 
great  pain  and  needs  must  strengthen  my 
self  with  a  little  rum.  Later  I  met  our 
godly  magistrate  and  chanced  to  mention 
the  incident.  He  telled  me  the  prisoner's 
name,  and  how  her  vanities  and  backslid- 
ings  were  a  sore  torment  to  her  father, 
and  that  he  knew  neither  peace  nor  happi 
ness  on  her  account." 

At  these  words  Master  Wentworth 
started  to  his  feet.  "  I  protest  against 
the  scandalous  words  uttered  by  our  mag 
istrate,"  he  cried  ;  "  ne'er  has  my  daughter 
brought  me  aught  save  peace  and  comfort. 
She  has  been  my  sole  consolation,  since 
her  mother  went  to  God." 

He  sat  down  again  with  his  hand  over 
his  eyes,  while  many  pitying  glances  were 
cast  upon  him. 

"  Mind  him  not,"  said  one  of  the  judges 


The  Trial  of  Deliverance         101 

to  Sir  Jonathan  ;  "  he  is  sorely  afflicted  and 
weighs  not  his  utterances.  Oh,  *  how 
sharper  than  a  serpent's  tooth  it  is  to 
have  a  thankless  child,'  "  and  he  glanced 
sternly  at  Deliverance. 

At  these  words,  she  could  no  longer 
contain  herself,  and  covering  her  face  with 
her  hands,  she  sobbed  aloud,  remembering 
all  her  wilfulness  in  the  past. 

"What  I  have  to  say,"  continued  Sir 
Jonathan,  "  is  not  much.  But  straws  show 
the  drift  of  the  current,  and  little  acts  the 
soul's  bent.  The  night  of  the  same  day 
on  which  I  saw  the  prisoner  standing  on 
the  block  near  the  town-pump,  I  went 
with  a  recipe  to  Master  Wentworth's  home 
to  have  him  brew  me  a  concoction  of  herbs. 
The  recipe  I  brought  from  England. 
Knowing  he  was  very  learned  in  the  art  of 
simpling,  I  took  it  to  him.  I  found  him 
in  his  still-room,  working.  Having  trans 
acted  my  business,  I  seated  myself  and 
we  lapsed  into  pleasant  converse.  While 
thus  talking,  he  opened  the  door,  called 
his  daughter  from  the  kitchen,  and  gave 
her  a  small  task.  At  last,  as  it  drew  near 


IO2          Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

the  ninth  hour  when  the  night-watchman 
would  make  his  rounds,  I  rose  and  said 
farewell  to  Master  Wentworth,  he  scarce 
hearing  me,  absorbed  in  his  simples.  As 
I  was  about  to  pass  the  prisoner,  my  heart 
not  being  hardened  toward  her  for  all  her 
vanities,  I  paused,  and  put  my  hand  in 
my  doublet  pocket,  thinking  to  pleasure 
her  by  giving  her  a  piece  of  silver,  and  also 
to  admonish  her  with  a  few,  well-chosen 
words.  But  as  my  fingers  clasped  the 
silver  piece,  my  attention  was  arrested  by 
the  expression  of  the  prisoner's  face.  So 
full  of  malice  was  it  that  I  recoiled.  And 
at  this  she  uttered  a  terrible  imprecation, 
the  words  of  which  I  did  not  fully  under 
stand,  but  at  the  instant  of  her  uttering 
them  a  most  excruciating  pain  seized  upon 
me.  It  racked  my  bones  so  that  I  tossed 
sleepless  all  that  night." 

He  paused  and  looked  around  solemnly 
over  the  people.  "  And  since  then,"  he 
added,  "  I  have  not  had  one  hour  free 
from  pain  and  dread." 

As  Sir  Jonathan  finished  his  testimony, 
he  glanced  at  Deliverance,  whose  head  had 


The  Trial  of  Deliverance         103 

sunk  on  her  breast  and  from  whose  heart 
all  hope  had  departed.  If  he  would  say 
naught  in  explanation,  what  proof  could 
she  give  that  she  was  no  witch  ?  Her 
good  and  loyal  word  had  been  given  not 
to  betray  her  meeting  with  the  mysterious 
stranger. 

"  Deliverance  Wentworth,"  said  Chief 
Justice  Stoughton,  "  have  you  aught  to 
say  to  the  charge  brought  against  you  by 
this  godly  gentleman  ?  " 

As  she  glanced  up  to  reply,  she  en 
countered  the  malevolent  glance  of  Sir 
Jonathan  defying  her  to  speak,  and  she 
shook  with  fear.  With  an  effort  she 
looked  away  from  him  to  the  judges. 

"  I  be  innocent  o'  any  witchery,"  she 
said  in  her  tremulous,  sweet  voice.  The 
words  of  the  woman  who  had  been  in 
jail  with  her  returned  to  her  memory : 
"  There  is  another  judgment,  dear  child." 
So  now  the  little  maid's  spirits  revived. 
"  I  be  innocent  o'  any  witchery,  your 
Lordships,"  she  repeated  bravely,  "  and 
there  be  another  judgment  than  that 
which  ye  shall  put  upon  me." 


IO4         Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

Strange  to  say,  the  sound  of  her  own 
voice  calmed  and  assured  her,  much  as  if 
the  comforting  words  had  been  again 
spoken  to  her  by  some  one  else.  Surely, 
she  believed,  being  innocent,  that  God 
would  not  let  her  be  hanged. 

The  fourth  witness,  Bartholomew  Stiles, 
a  yeoman,  bald  and  bent  nearly  double  by 
age,  was  then  cried  by  the  Beadle. 

Leaning  on  his  stick  he  pattered  up  the 
aisle,  and  stumblingly  ascended  the  steps 
of  the  platform. 

"Ye  do  me  great  honour,  worships,"  he 
cackled,  "  to  call  on  my  poor  wit." 

"  Give  him  a  stool,  for  he  is  feeble," 
said  the  chief  justice;  "a  stool  for  the  old 
man,  good  Beadle." 

So  a  stool  was  brought  and  old  Bar 
tholomew  seated  upon  it.  He  looked 
over  the  audience  and  at  the  row  of  judges. 
Then  he  spied  Deliverance.  "  Ay,  there 
her  be,  worships,  there  be  the  witch." 
He  pointed  his  trembling  finger  at  her. 
"  Ay,  witch,  the  old  man  kens  ye." 

"When  did  you  last  see  the  prisoner?" 
asked  the  chief  justice. 


The  Trial  of  Deliverance         105 

"  There  her  be,  worships,"  repeated  the 
witness,  "  there  be  the  witch,  wi'  a  white 
neck  for  stretching.  Best  be  an  old  throat 
wi'  free  breath,  than  a  lassie's  neck  wi'  a 
rope  around  it." 

Deliverance  shuddered. 

"  Methinks  no  hag  o'  the  Evil  One," 
said  she  to  herself,  "be  more  given  o'er 
to  malice  than  this  old  fule,  Lord  forgive 
me  for  the  calling  o'  him  by  that  name." 

Now  the  judge  in  the  black  silk  cap 
was  moved  to  pity  by  the  prisoner's 
shudder,  and  spoke  out  sharply.  "  Let 
the  witness  keep  to  his  story  and  answer 
the  questions  put  to  him  in  due  order,  or 
else  he  shall  be  put  in  the  stocks." 

"  Up  with  your  pate,  goody,"  admon 
ished  the  Beadle,  "  and  speak  out  that 
their  worships  may  hear,  or  into  the 
stocks  ye  go  to  sweat  in  the  sun  while  the 
boys  tickle  the  soles  o'  your  feet." 

The  witness  wriggled  uneasily  as  having 
had  experience. 

"  A  week  ago,  or  it  be  twa  or  three  or 
four  past,  your  worships,  the  day  afore 
this  time,  'twixt  noon  an'  set  o'  sun,  there 


io6          Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

had  been  thunder  an'  crook'd  lightning, 
an'  hags  rode  by  i'  the  wind  on  branches. 
All  the  milk  clabbered,  if  that  will  holpen 
ye  to  'membrance  o'  the  day,  worships." 

"Ay,  reverend  judges,"  called  out  a 
woman's  voice  from  the  audience,  "  sour 
milk  the  old  silly  brought  me,  four  weeks 
come  next  Thursday.  Good  pence  took 
he  for  his  clabbered  milk,  and  I  was  like 
to  cuff—  " 

"  The  ducking-stool  awaits  scolding 
wives,"  interrupted  the  chief  justice,  with 
a  menacing  look,  and  the  woman  sub 
sided. 

"  That  day  at  set  o'  sun  I  was  going 
into  toone  wi'  my  buckets  o'  milk  when  I 
spied  a  bramble  rose.  '  Blushets,'  says  I 
to  them,  'ye  must  be  picked;'  for  I  thought 
to  carry  them  to  the  toone  an'  let  them 
gae  for  summat  gude  to  eat.  So  I  set 
doone  my  pails  to  pull  a  handful  o'  the 
pretty  blushets.  O'  raising  my  old  een, 
my  heart  was  like  to  jump  out  my  throat, 
for  there  adoon  the  forest  path,  'twixt  the 
green,  I  saw  the  naughty  maid  i'  amiable 
converse  wi'  Satan." 


The  Trial  of  Deliverance         107 

"  Dear  Lord,"  interrupted  the  little 
maid,  sharply,  "  he  was  a  very  pleasant 
gentleman." 

"  Silence  !  "  cried  the  Beadle,  tapping 
her  head  with  his  staff",  on  the  end  of 
which  was  a  pewter-ball. 

"  As  ye  ken,"  continued  the  old  yeo 
man,  "the  Devil  be  most  often  a  black 
man,  but  this  time  he  was  o'  fair  colour, 
attired  in  most  ungodly  fashion  in  a  gay 
velvet  dooblet  wi'  high  boots.  So  ta'en 
up  wi'  watching  o'  the  wickedness  o' 
Deliverance  Wentworth  was  I,  that  I 
clean  forgot  myself —  " 

The  speaker,  shuddering,  paused. 

"  Lose  not  precious  time,"  admonished 
the  chief  justice,  sternly. 

"  O'  a  sudden  I  near  died  o'  fright," 
moaned  the  old  yeoman. 

A  tremor  as  at  something  supernatural 
passed  over  the  people. 

"Ay,"  continued  the  witness,  "  wi' 
mine  very  een,  I  beheld  the  prisoner  turn 
an'  run  towards  her  hame,  whilst  the 
Devil  rose  an'  come  doone  the  path 
towards  me,  Bartholomew  Stiles  !  " 


io8          Ye  Lyttle  Salem  Maide 

"And  then  ?  "  queried  the  chief  justice, 
impatiently. 

"  It  was  too  late  to  hide,  an'  I  be  no 
spry  a'  running.  Plump  o'  my  marrow- 
boones  I  dropped,  an'  closed  my  een  an' 
prayed  wi'  a  loud  voice.  I  heard  Satan 
draw  near.  He  stopped  aside  me.  c  Ye 
old  silly,'  says  he,  '  be  ye  gane  daffy  ? ' 
Ne'er  word  answered  I,  but  prayed  the 
louder.  I  heard  the  vision  take  a  lang 
draught  o'  milk  from  the  bucket  wi'  a 
smackin'  o'  his  lips.  Then  did  Satan 
deal  me  an  ungentle  kick  an'  went  on 
doon  the  path." 

"  Said  he  naught  further  ?  "  asked  one 
of  the  judges. 

"  Nae  word  more,  worships,"  replied 
the  yeoman.  "  I  ha'  the  caution  not  to 
open  my  een  for  a  lang  bit  o'  time. 
Then  I  saw  that  what  milk  remained  i' 
the  bucket  out  o'  which  Satan  drank,  had 
turned  black,  an'  I  ha'  some  o'  it  here  to 
testify  to  the  sinfu'  company  kept  by 
Deliverance  Wentworth." 

From  his  pocket  the  old  yeoman  care 
fully  drew  a  small  bottle  filled  with  a 


The  Trial  of  Deliverance        109 

black  liquid,  and,  in  his  shaking  hand, 
extended  it  to  the  judge  nearest  him. 

Solemnly  the  judge  took  it  and  drew 
out  the  cork. 

"  It  has  the  smell  of  milk,"  he  said, 
"  but  milk  which  has  clabbered ;  "  and  he 
passed  it  to  his  neighbour. 

"  It  has  the  look  of  clabbered  milk," 
assented  the  second  judge. 

"Beshrew  me,  but  it  is  clabbered  milk," 
asserted  the  third  judge ;  "  methinks 
'twould  be  wisdom  to  keep  the  bottle 
corked,  lest  the  once  good  milk,  now  a 
malignant  fluid,  be  spilled  on  one  of  us 
and  a  tiny  drop  do  great  evil." 

Thus  the  bottle  was  passed  from  one 
judicial  nose  to  the  other,  and  then  given 
to  the  Beadle,  who  set  it  carefully  on  the 
table. 

There  may  be  seen  to  this  day  in  Salem 
a  bottle  containing  the  pins  which  were 
drawn  from  the  bodies  of  those  who  were 
victims  of  witches.  But  the  bottle  which 
stood  beside  it  for  over  a  century  was  at 
last  thrown  away,  as  it  was  empty  save 
for  a  few  grains  of  some  powder  or  dust. 


1 10         Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

Little  did  they  who  flung  it  away  realize 
that  that  pinch  of  grayish  dust  was  the 
remains  of  the  milk,  which  Satan,  accord 
ing  to  Bartholomew  Stiles,  had  bewitched, 
and  which  was  a  large  factor  in  securing 
the  condemnation  of  Deliverance  Went- 
worth. 

The  next  witness  was  the  minister  who 
had  conducted  the  services  on  the  after 
noon  of  that  late  memorable  Sabbath, 
when  the  Devil  had  sought  to  destroy  the 
meeting-house  during  a  thunder-storm. 

He  testified  to  having  seen  the  prisoner 
raise  her  eyes,  as  she  entered  the  church 
in  disgrace  ahead  of  the  tithing-man,  and 
instantly  an  invisible  demon,  obeying  her 
summons,  tore  down  that  part  of  the  roof 
whereon  her  glance  rested. 

This  evidence,  further  testified  to  by 
other  witnesses,  was  in  itself  sufficient  to 
condemn  her. 

The  little  maid  heard  the  minister 
sadly.  In  the  past  he  had  been  kind  to 
her,  and  was  her  father's  friend,  and  his 
young  daughter  had  attended  the  Dame 
School  with  her. 


The  Trial  of  Deliverance         1 1 1 

Later,  this  very  minister  was  driven 
from  the  town  by  his  indignant  parish 
ioners,  who  blamed  him  not  that  he  had 
shared  in  the  general  delusion,  but  that 
many  of  his  persecutions  had  been  actuated 
by  personal  malice. 

And  by  a  formal  and  public  act,  the 
repentant  people  cancelled  their  excom 
munication  of  one  blameless  woman  who 
had  been  his  especial  victim. 

"  Deliverance  Wentworth,"  said  the 
chief  justice,  "the  supreme  test  of  witch 
ery  will  now  be  put  to  you.  Pray  God 
discover  you  if  you  be  guilty.  Let  Eben- 
ezer  Gibbs  appear." 

"  Ebenezer  Gibbs,"  cried  the  Beadle, 
loudly. 

At  this  there  was  a  great  stir  and  con 
fusion  in  the  rear  of  the  meeting-house. 

Deliverance  saw  the  stern  faces  turn 
from  her,  and  necks  craned  to  see  the 
next  witness.  There  entered  the  young 
man  whom  she  had  noticed,  mounted  on 
a  white  horse,  at  the  outskirts  of  the 
crowd.  A  buzz  of  admiration  greeted 
him,  as  he  advanced  slowly  up  the  aisle, 


ii2         Ye  Lyttle  Salem  Maide 

with  a  pomposity  unusual  in  so  young  a 
man.  His  expression  was  austere.  His 
right  hand  was  spread  upon  a  Bible,  which 
he  held  against  his  breast.  His  hand, 
large,  of  a  dimpled  plumpness,  with  taper 
ing  fingers,  was  oddly  at  variance  with  his 
handsome  face,  which  was  thin,  and  marked 
by  lines  of  hard  study  ;  a  fiery  zeal  smoul 
dered  beneath  the  self-contained  expres 
sion,  ready  to  flame  forth  at  a  word.  He 
ascended  the  platform  reserved  for  the 
judges,  and  seated  himself.  Then  he  laid 
the  Bible  on  his  knees,  and  folded  his 
arms  across  his  breast. 

A  pitiful  wailing  arose  in  the  back  of 
the  house,  and  the  sound  of  a  woman's 
voice  hushing  some  one. 

A  man's  voice  in  the  audience  cried  out, 
"  Let  the  witch  be  hanged.  She  be  tor 
menting  her  victim." 

"  I  be  no  witch,"  cried  Deliverance, 
shrilly.  "  Dear  Lord,  give  them  a  sign 
I  be  no  witch." 

The  Beadle  pounded  his  staff  for  si 
lence. 

"  Let  Ebenezer  Gibbs  come  into  court." 


Chapter   VIII 

The  Last  Witness 

IN  answer  to  these  summons,  a  child 
came  slowly  up  the  aisle,  clinging  to 
his  mother's  skirts.  His  thin  little  legs 
tottered  under  him ;  his  face  was  peaked 
and  wan,  and  he  hid  it  in  his  mother's 
dress.  When  the  Beadle  sought  to  lift 
him,  he  wept  bitterly,  and  had  to  be 
taken  by  force,  and  placed  upon  the  plat 
form  where  the  accused  was  seated.  The 
poor  baby  gasped  for  breath.  His  face 
grew  rigid,  his  lips  purple.  His  tiny 
hands,  which  were  like  bird's  claws,  so 
thin  and  emaciated  were  they,  clinched, 
and  he  fell  in  convulsions. 

An  angry  murmur  from  the  people  was 
instantly  succeeded  by  the  deepest  silence. 

The  magistrates  and  people  breathlessly 
awaited  the  result  of  the  coming  experi 
ment. 

i  113 


1 14         Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

The  supreme  test  in  all  cases  of  witchery 
was  to  bring  the  victim  into  court,  when 
he  would  generally  fall  into  convulsions, 
or  scream  with  agony  on  beholding  the 
accused. 

The  Beadle  and  his  assistants  would 
then  conduct  or  carry  the  sufferer  to  the 
prisoner,  who  was  bidden  by  the  judge  to 
put  forth  his  hand  and  touch  the  flesh  of 
the  afflicted  one.  Instantly  the  convul 
sions  and  supposed  diabolical  effects  would 
cease,  the  malignant  fluid  passing  back, 
like  a  magnetic  current,  into  the  body  of 
the  witch. 

Tenderly  the  Beadle  lifted  the  small 
convulsed  form  of  Ebenezer  Gibbs  and 
laid  it  at  the  prisoner's  feet. 

"  Deliverance  Wentworth,"  said  the 
chief  justice,  "you  are  bidden  by  the 
court  to  touch  the  body  of  your  victim, 
that  the  malignant  fluid,  with  which  you 
have  so  diabolically  afflicted  him,  may 
return  into  your  own  body.  Again  I  pray 
God  in  His  justice  discover  you  if  you  be 
guilty." 

Despite   the   severity  of  her   rule,   the 


The   Last  Witness  115 

little  assistant  teacher  of  the  Dame  School 
had  a  most  tender  heart  for  her  tiny 
scholars.  She  bent  now  and  lifted  this 
youngest  of  her  pupils  into  her  lap. 

"  Oh,  Ebenezer,"  she  cried,  stricken 
with  remorse,  "  I  no  meant  to  rap  your 
pate  so  hard  as  to  make  ye  go  daffy." 

Doubtless  the  familiar  voice  pierced  to 
the  child's  benumbed  faculties,  for  he  was 
seen  to  stir  in  her  arms. 

"  Ebenezer,"  murmured  the  little  maid, 
"  do  ye  no  love  me,  that  ye  will  no  open 
your  eyes  and  look  at  me  ?  Why,  I  be  no 
witch,  Ebenezer.  Open  your  eyes  and  see. 
I  will  give  ye  a  big  sugar-plum  and  ye  will." 

The  beloved  voice  touched  the  estranged 
child-heart.  Perhaps  the  poor,  stricken 
baby  believed  himself  again  at  his  knitting 
and  primer-lesson  at  the  Dame  School. 
In  the  awed  silence  he  was  seen  to  raise 
himself  in  the  prisoner's  arms  and  smile. 
With  an  inarticulate,  cooing  sound,  he 
stroked  her  cheek  with  his  little  hand. 
The  little  maid  spoke  in  playful  chiding. 
Suddenly  a  weak  gurgle  of  laughter  smote 
the  strained  hearing  of  the  people. 


n6         Ye  Lyttle  Salem  Maide 

"  Ye  see,  ye  see  I  be  no  witch,"  cried 
Deliverance,  raising  her  head,  "  ye  see  he 
be  no  afeared  o'  me." 

But  as  soon  as  the  words  left  her  lips, 
she  shrank  and  cowered,  for  she  realized 
that  the  test  of  witchery  had  succeeded, 
that  she  was  condemned.  From  her  sud 
denly  limp  and  helpless  arms  the  Beadle 
took  the  child  and  returned  it  to  its 
mother.  And  from  that  hour  it  was 
observed  that  little  Ebenezer  Gibbs  re 
gained  strength. 

The  prisoner's  arms  were  then  bound 
behind  her  that  she  might  not  touch  any 
one  else. 

After  quiet  had  been  restored,  and  the 
excitement  at  this  direct  proof  of  the  pris 
oner's  guilt  had  been  quelled,  the  young 
minister,  who  had  entered  at  a  late  hour 
of  the  trial,  rose  and  addressed  the  jury. 
He  was  none  other  than  the  famous 
Cotton  Mather,  of  Boston  Town,  being 
then  about  thirty  years  old  and  in  the 
height  of  his  power.  He  had  journeyed 
thither,  he  said,  especially  to  be  present  at 
this  trial,  inasmuch  as  he  had  heard  that 


The  Last  Witness  117 

some  doubters  had  protested  that  the 
prisoner  being  young  and  a  maiden,  it  was 
a  cruel  deed  to  bring  her  to  trial,  as  if  it 
had  not  been  proven  unto  the  people, 
yea,  unto  these  very  doubters,  that  the 
Devil,  in  his  serpent  cunning,  often  takes 
possession  of  seemingly  innocent  per 
sons. 

"  Atheism,"  he  said,  tapping  his  Bible, 
"  is  begun  in  Sadducism,  and  those  that  dare 
not  openly  say,  c  There  is  no  God,'  con 
tent  themselves  for  a  fair  step  and  introduc 
tion  thereto  by  denying  there  are  witches. 
You  have  seen  how  this  poor  child  had 
his  grievous  torment  relieved  as  soon  as 
the  prisoner  touched  him.  Yet  you  are 
wrought  upon  in  your  weak  hearts  by  her 
round  cheek  and  tender  years,  whereas  if 
the  prisoner  had  been  an  hag,  you  would 
have  cried  out  upon  her.  Have  you 
not  been  told  this  present  assault  of  evil 
spirits  is  a  particular  defiance  unto  you  and 
your  ministers  ?  Especially  against  New 
England  is  Satan  waging  war,  because  of 
its  greater  godliness.  For  the  same  reason 
it  has  been  observed  that  demons,  having 


n8          Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

much  spitred  against  God's  house,  do 
seek  to  demolish  churchs  during  thunder 
storms.  Of  this  you  have  had  terrible 
experience  in  the  incident  of  this  pris 
oner.  You  know  how  hundreds  of  poor 
people  have  been  seized  with  supernatural 
torture,  many  scalded  with  invisible  brim 
stone,  some  with  pins  stuck  in  them, 
which  have  been  withdrawn  and  placed  in 
a  bottle,  that  you  all  may  have  witness 
thereof.  Yea,  with  mine  own  eyes  have 
I  seen  poor  children  made  to  fly  like 
geese,  but  just  their  toes  touching  now 
and  then  upon  the  ground,  sometimes  not 
once  in  twenty  feet,  their  arms  flapping 
like  wings  !  " 

The  court-house  was  very  warm  this 
June  morning.  Cotton  Mather  paused 
to  wipe  the  perspiration  from  his  brow. 
As  he  returned  his  kerchief  to  his  pocket 
his  glance  rested  momentarily  on  the 
prisoner. 

For  the  first  time  he  realized  her  youth. 
He  noted  her  hair  had  a  golden  and  inno 
cent  shining  like  the  hair  of  a  little 
child. 


The  Last  Witness  119 

"  Surely,"  he  spoke  aloud,  yet  more  to 
himself  than  to  the  people,  "  the  Devil 
does  indeed  take  on  at  times  the  appear 
ance  of  a  very  angel  of  light !  " 

He  felt  a  sudden  stirring  of  sympathy 
for  those  weak  natures  wrought  upon  by 
"  a  round  cheek  and  tender  years."  The 
consciousness  of  this  leaning  in  himself 
inspired  him  to  greater  vehemence. 

"  The  conviction  is  most  earnestly 
forced  upon  me  that  God  has  made  of  this 
especial  case  a  very  trial  of  faith,  lest  we 
embrace  Satan  when  he  appears  to  us  in 
goodly  disguise,  and  persecute  him  only 
when  he  puts  on  the  semblance  of  an  old 
hag  or  a  middle-aged  person.  Yet,  while 
God  has  thus  far  accorded  the  most  ex 
quisite  success  to  our  endeavour  to  defeat 
these  horrid  witchcrafts,  there  is  need  of 
much  caution  lest  the  Devil  outwit  us,  so 
that  we  most  miserably  convict  the  inno 
cent  and  set  the  guilty  free.  Now,  the 
prisoner  being  young,  meseemeth  she  was, 
perchance,  more  foolish  than  wicked.  And 
when  I  reflect  that  men  of  much  strength 
and  hearty  women  have  confessed  that  the 


I2O         Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

Black  man  did  tender  a  book  unto  them, 
soliciting  them  to  enter  into  a  league  with 
his  Master,  and  when  they  refused  this 
abominable  spectre,  did  summon  his  de 
mons  to  torture  these  poor  people,  until 
by  reason  of  their  weak  flesh,  but  against 
their  real  desires,  they  signed  themselves 
to  be  the  servants  of  the  Devil  forever, 
—  and,  I  repeat,  that  when  I  reflect  on 
this,  that  they  who  were  hearty  and  of 
mature  age  could  not  withstand  the  tort 
ure  of  being  twisted  and  pricked  and 
pulled,  and  scalded  with  burning  brim 
stone,  how  much  less  could  a  weak,  tender 
maid  resist  their  evil  assaults  ?  And  I 
trust  that  my  poor  prayers  for  her  salva 
tion  will  not  be  refused,  but  that  she  will 
confess  and  save  her  soul." 

He  turned  his  earnest  glance  upon  De 
liverance  and,  perceiving  she  was  in  great 
fear,  he  spoke  to  her  gently,  bidding  her 
cast  off  all  dread  of  the  Devil,  abiding 
rather  in  the  love  of  God,  and  thus  strong 
in  the  armour  of  light,  make  her  con 
fession. 

But  the  little  maid  was  too  stupefied  by 


The   Last  Witness  121 

terror  to  gather  much  intelligent  meaning 
from  his  words,  and  she  stared  helplessly 
at  him  as  if  stricken  dumb. 

At  her  continued,  and  to  him,  stubborn, 
silence,  his  patience  vanished. 

"  Then  are  you  indeed  obstinate  and  of 
hard  heart,  and  the  Lord  has  cast  you  off," 
he  cried.  He  turned  to  the  judges  with 
an  impassioned  gesture.  "  What  better 
proof  could  you  have  that  the  Devil  would 
indeed  beguile  the  court  itself  by  a  fair 
outward  show  ?  Behold  a  very  Sadducee  ! 
See  in  what  dire  need  we  stand  to  permit 
no  false  compassion  to  move  us,  lest  by 
not  proceeding  with  unwavering  justice 
in  this  witchery  business  we  work  against 
the  very  cause  of  Christ.  Still,  while  I 
would  thus  caution  you  not  to  let  one 
witch  go  free,  meseemeth  it  is  yet  worth 
while  to  consider  other  punishment  than 
by  halter  or  burning.  I  have  lately  been 
impressed  by  a  Vision  from  the  Invisible 
World,  that  it  would  be  pleasing  to  the 
Lord  to  have  the  lesser  criminals  punished 
in  a  mortifying  public  fashion  until  they 
renounce  the  Devil.  I  am  apt  to  think 


122         Ye  Lyttle  Salem  Maide 

there  is  some  substantial  merit  in  this 
peculiar  recommendation." 

A  ray  of  hope  was  in  these  last  words 
for  the  prisoner. 

Deliverance  raised  her  head  eagerly.  A 
lesser  punishment !  Then  she  would  not 
be  hanged.  Oh,  what  a  blessed  salvation 
that  she  would  be  placed  only  in  the 
stocks,  or  made  to  stand  in  a  public  place 
until  she  should  confess  !  And  it  flashed 
through  her  mind  that  she  could  delay 
her  confession  from  day  to  day  until  the 
Cavalier  should  return. 

Cotton  Mather  caught  her  sudden 
changed  expression. 

The  wan  little  face  with  its  wide,  up 
lifted  eyes  and  half  parted  lips  acquired  a 
fearful  significance.  That  transfiguring 
illumination  of  hope  upon  her  face  was  to 
him  the  phosphorescent  playing  of  dia 
bolical  lights. 

His  compassion  vanished.  He  now 
saw  her  only  as  a  subtle  instrument  of  the 
Devil's  to  defeat  the  ministers  and  the 
Church.  He  shuddered  at  the  train  of 
miserable  consequences  to  which  his  pity 


The   Last  Witness  123 

might  have  opened  the  door,  had  not  the 
mercy  of  God  showed  him  his  error  in 
time. 

"  But  when  you  have  catched  a  witch  of 
more  than  ordinary  devilment,"  he  cried, 
striking  the  palm  of  one  hand  with  his 
clinched  fis;:,  "  and  who,  by  a  fair  and 
most  subtle  showing,  would  betray  the 
cause  of  Christ  to  her  Master,  let  no 
weak  pity  unnerve  you,  but  have  at  her 
and  hang  her,  lest  but  one  such  witch  left 
in  the  land  acquire  power  to  wreak  untold 
evil  and  undo  all  we  have  done." 

Still  once  again  did  his  deeply  con 
cerned  gaze  seek  the  prisoner's  face,  hop 
ing  to  behold  therein  some  sign  of 
softening. 

Beholding  it  not  he  sighed  heavily. 
He  would  willingly  have  given  his  life  to 
save  her  soul  to  the  good  of  God  and  to 
the  glory  of  his  own  self-immolation. 

"  I  become  more  and  more  convinced 
that  my  failure  to  bring  this  miserable 
maid  to  confession,  and  indeed  the  whole 
assault  of  the  Evil  Angels  upon  the  coun 
try,"  he  continued,  using  those  words 


124         Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

which  have  been  generally  accepted  as  a 
revelation  of  his  marvellous  credulity  and 
self-righteousness,  "were  intended  by  Hell 
as  a  particular  defiance  unto  my  poor  en 
deavours  to  bring  the  souls  of  men  unto 
heaven.  Yet  will  I  wage  personal  war 
with  Satan  to  drive  him  from  the  land." 

He  raised  his  eyes,  a  light  of  exaltation 
sweeping  over  his  face. 

"And  in  God's  own  appointed  time," 
he  cried  in  a  voice  that  quivered  with  emo 
tion,  "  His  Peace  will  again  descend  upon 
this  fair  and  gracious  land,  and  we  shall  be 
at  rest  from  persecution." 

Whatever  of  overweening  vanity  his 
words  expressed,  none  present  seeing  his 
enraptured  face  might  have  judged  him 
harshly. 

No  infatuated  self-complacency  alone 
prompted  his  words,  but  rather  his  earn 
est  conviction  that  he  was  indeed  the  in 
strument  of  God,  and  believed  himself  by 
reason  of  his  long  fastings  and  prayer, 
more  than  any  person  he  knew,  in  direct 
communion  with  the  invisible  world. 

And  if  his    vanity  and    self-sufficiency 


The  Last  Witness  125 

held  many  from  loving  him,  there  were 
few  who  did  not  involuntarily  do  him 
honour. 

Having  finished  he  sat  down,  laid  his 
Bible  on  his  knee,  and  folded  his  arms 
across  his  breast  as  heretofore.  None, 
looking  at  him  then  as  he  sat  facing  the 
people,  his  chest  puffed  out  with  incom 
parable  pride,  young,  with  every  sign  of 
piety,  withal  a  famous  scholar,  and  pos 
sessed  of  exceptional  personal  comeliness, 
saw  how  the  shadow  of  the  future  already 
touched  him,  when  for  his  honest  zeal 
in  persecuting  witches  he  should  be  an 
object  of  insult  and  ridicule  in  Boston 
Town,  people  naming  their  negroes  Cot 
ton  Mather  after  him. 

During  his  speech,  Deliverance  had  at 
first  listened  eagerly,  but,  as  he  continued, 
her  head  sank  on  her  breast  and  hope 
vanished.  Dimly,  as  in  a  dream,  she 
heard  the  judges'  voices,  the  whispering  of 
the  people.  At  last,  as  a  voice  speaking 
a  great  distance  off,  she  heard  her  name 
spoken. 

"  Deliverance  Wentworth,"  said  Chief 


126         Ye  Lyttle  Salem  Maide 

Justice  Stoughton,  "you  are  acquaint  with 
the  law.  If  any  man  or  woman  be  a 
witch  and  hath  a  familiar  spirit,  or  hath 
consulted  with  one,  he  or  she  shall  be  put 
to  death.  You  have  by  full  and  fair  trial 
been  proven  a  witch  and  found  guilty  in 
the  extreme.  Yet  the  court  will  shew 
mercy  unto  you,  if  you  will  heartily,  and 
with  a  contrite  heart,  confess  that  you 
sinned  through  weakness,  and  repent  that 
you  did  transfer  allegiance  from  God  to 
the  Devil." 

"  I  be  no  witch,"  cried  Deliverance, 
huskily,  "  I  be  no  witch.  There  be 
another  judgment." 

The  tears  dropped  from  her  eyes  into 
her  lap  and  the  sweat  rolled  down  her 
face.  But  she  could  not  wipe  them  away, 
her  arms  being  bound  behind  her. 

The  judge  nearest  her,  he  who  wore 
his  natural  hair  and  the  black  cap,  was 
moved  to  compassion.  He  leant  forward, 
and  with  his  kerchief  wiped  the  tears  and 
sweat  from  her  face. 

"You  poor  and  pitiful  child,"  he  said, 
"  estranged  from  God  by  reason  of  your 


The  Last  Witness  127 

great  sin,  confess,  confess,  while  there  is 
yet  time,  lest  you  be  hanged  in  sin  and 
your  soul  condemned  to  eternal  burning." 
Deliverance  comprehended  but  the 
merciful  act  and  not  the  exhortation. 
She  looked  at  him  with  the  terror  and 
entreaty  of  a  last  appeal  in  her  eyes,  but 
was  powerless  to  speak. 


Chapter  IX 
In  which  Abigail  sees   Deliverance 

THUS  because  she  would  not  confess 
to  the  crime  of  which  she  had  been 
proven  guilty  in  the  eyes  of  the  law,  she 
was  sentenced  to  be  hanged  within  five 
days,  on  Saturday,  not  later  than  the  tenth 
nor  earlier  than  the  eighth  hour.  Also, 
owing  to  the  fact  of  the  confusion  and 
almost  ungovernable  excitement  among 
the  people,  it  was  forbidden  any  one  to 
visit  her,  excepting  of  course  the  officers 
of  the  law,  or  the  ministers  to  exhort  her 
to  confession. 

At  noon  the  court  adjourned. 

First,  the  judges  in  their  velvet  gowns 
went  out  of  the  meeting-house.  With  the 
chief  justice  walked  Cotton  Mather,  con 
versing  learnedly. 

Following  their  departure,  two  soldiers 
entered  and  bade  Deliverance  rise  and  go 
128 


In  which  Abigail  sees  Deliverance      129 

out  with  them.  So,  amidst  a  great  silence, 
she  passed  down  the  aisle. 

Then  the  people  were  allowed  to  leave. 
Some  of  them  must  needs  follow  the 
judges,  riding  in  stately  grandeur  down 
the  street  to  the  tavern  for  dinner.  But 
the  greater  part  of  them  followed  the 
prisoner's  cart  to  the  very  door  of  the  jail. 

As  Deliverance  stepped  from  the  cart, 
she  saw  a  familiar  figure  near  by.  It  was 
that  of  Goodwife  Higgins. 

"  Deliverance,  oh,  Deliverance,"  cried 
the  poor  woman,  "  speak  to  me,  my 
bairn  ! " 

But  Deliverance  looked  at  her  with  woe 
begone  eyes,  answering  never  a  word. 

The  goodwife,  regardless  of  the  angry 
warnings  of  the  guard  to  stand  back,  pushed 
her  way  to  her  foster-child's  side.  Deliver 
ance  was  as  one  stricken  dumb.  Only  she 
raised  her  face,  and  the  goodwife  bent  and 
kissed  the  little  maid's  parched  lips. 

A  soldier  wrested  them  violently  apart. 
"  Are  ye  gone  daft,  gossip,"  he  cried 
harshly,  "  that  ye  would  buss  a  witch  ?  " 

Of  the  many  that  had  packed  the  meet- 


130         Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

ing-house  to  the  full  that  morning,  but 
one  person  now  remained  in  it.  This  was 
Master  Wentworth,  the  simpler,  honoured 
for  his  pure  and  blameless  life  as  well  as 
for  his  great  skill.  All  that  summer 
noontide  he  knelt  and  prayed,  unmindful 
of  the  heat,  the  buzzing  flies,  the  garish 
light  streaming  through  the  window.  He, 
knowing  that  the  hearts  of  men  were 
hardened  to  his  cause,  had  carried  his 
grief  to  a  higher  Tribunal. 

When  the  jailer  had  turned  the  key  in 
the  door  and  locked  her  in,  a  certain  peace 
came  to  Deliverance. 

The  abhorred  prison-cell  now  seemed 
sweet  to  her.  No  longer  was  it  a  prison, 
but  a  refuge  from  the  stern  faces,  the 
judges,  and  the  young  minister.  Never 
had  the  lavender-scented  sheets  of  her 
little  hooded  bed  at  home  seemed  half  so 
sweet  as  did  now  the  pile  of  straw  in  the 
corner.  Once  more  the  chain  was  fastened 
around  her  ankle.  But  the  clanking  of 
this  chain  was  music  to  her  compared  to 
the  voices  that  had  condemned  her. 

The  sunlight  came  in  the  window  with 


In  which  Abigail  sees  Deliverance     131 

a   green    and    golden    glory   through    the 
leaves  of  the  gnarled  old  apple  tree. 

Drearily  the  long  afternoon  wore  away. 
Deliverance  wondered  why  she  did  not 
cry,  but  she  seemed  to  have  no  tears  left, 
and  she  felt  no  pain.  So  she  began  to 
believe  her  heart  had  indeed  grown  numb, 
much  as  her  fingers  did  in  cold  weather. 
She  longed  to  know  if  the  stranger  she 
had  met  in  the  forest  had  yet  arrived  from 
Boston  Town.  However,  she  felt  that  if 
he  had  he  would  have  found  her  before 
this.  Something  entirely  unforeseen  must 
have  detained  him.  Had  he  not  said  he 
would  return  in  state  in  a  few  days  ? 
Toward  sunset  she  heard  a  rustling  in 
the  leaves  of  the  apple  tree  and  the  snap 
ping  of  twigs  as  if  a  strong  wind  had  sud 
denly  risen.  She  looked  up  at  the  window. 
Something  was  moving  in  the  tree.  After 
a  breathless  moment,  she  caught  a  glimpse 
of  the  sad-coloured  petticoat  of  Abigail 
Brewster.  Her  heart  throbbed  with  joy. 
The  leaves  at  the  window  were  parted  by 
two  small,  sunbrowned  hands,  and  then 
against  the  bars  was  pressed  a  sober  face, 


Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 


albeit  as  round  and  rosy  as  an  apple,  and 
two  reproachful  brown  eyes  gazed  down 
upon  her. 

"  Deliverance,"  asked  the  newcomer, 
"  might  ye  be  a  witch  and  ne'er  telled  me 
a  word  on  it  ?  " 

Hope  came  back  with  a  glad  rush  to 
Deliverance  and  lit  her  eyes  with  joy,  and 
touched  her  cheeks  with  colour.  For 
several  moments  she  could  not  speak. 
Then  the  tears  streamed  from  her  eyes, 
and  she  put  forth  her  arms,  crying,  "  Oh, 
Abigail,  I  be  fair  glad  to  see  ye  !  I  be  fair 
glad  to  see  ye." 

"  I  thought  ye  would  have  telled  me  on 
it,"  repeated  Abigail. 

"Ye  be  right,"  answered  the  little  maid, 
solemnly,  "  I  be  no  witch.  I  speak  true 
words,  Abigail.  I  ken  not  how  to  be  a 
witch  and  I  would." 

"  I  calculate  ye  were  none,"  answered 
the  other,  "  for  ye  were  ne'er  o'er  quick  to 
be  wicked  save  in  an  idle  fashion.  I  cal 
culate  ye  would  ne'er  meddle  with  witches. 
Ye  were  gone  so  daffy  o'er  the  adorning 
o'  your  sinful  person  that  ye  had  thought 


In  which  Abigail  sees  Deliverance      133 

for  nothing  else  in  your  frowardness  and 
vanity."  Severe  though  the  words  were, 
the  speaker's  voice  trembled  and  suddenly 
broke  into  sobs.  "  Oh,  Deliverance, 
Deliverance,  I  ken  not  what  I  shall  do 
and  ye  be  hanged !  I  tell  ye  a  wicked 
witch  has  done  this,  and  hanged  her  evil 
deeds  on  ye  to  escape  her  righteous  pun 
ishment." 

"  Ye  silly  one,  hush  your  soughing," 
whispered  Deliverance,  sharply,  "  or  the 
jailer  will  hear  ye  and  send  ye  away." 
She  glanced  toward  the  door  to  assure 
herself  that  it  was  closed,  then  whispered, 
"  The  Lord  has  put  into  my  mind  a  plan 
by  which  ye  can  free  me,  and  ye  be  so 
minded." 

"  I  ken  not  how  to  refrain  from  sough 
ing  when  I  think  o'  ye  hanging  from  the 
gallows,  swinging  back  and  forth,  back 

D  '  O        O 

and  forth,"  wept  Abigail. 

Deliverance  shuddered.  "  Ye  were 
ne'er  too  pleasant-mouthed,"  she  retorted 
with  spirit,  despite  the  terrible  picture 
drawn  for  her;  "but  ye  be  grown  fair  evil 
and  full  o'  malice  to  mind  me  o'  such  an 


134         Ye  Lyttle  Salem  Maide 

awful  thing."  She  pointed  frantically  to 
the  door.  "  Hush  your  soughing,  ye 
silly  one.  Methinks  I  hear  the  jailer." 

"  Ye  look  no  reconciled  to  God, 
Deliverance,"  protested  Abigail,  meekly, 
wiping  her  eyes  on  the  edge  of  her 
linsey-woolsey  petticoat. 

"  Now  hark  ye,  Abigail,"  said  Deliver 
ance,  "  and  I  will  tell  ye  an  o'er-strange 
tale.  But  ye  must  swear  to  me  that  ye 
will  breathe  no  word  o'  it.  I  be  on  a 
service  for  his  Majesty,  the  King,  the 
likes  ye  wot  not  of.  And  now  no  more 
of  this  lest  I  betray  a  secret  I  be  bound 
in  all  loyalty  to  keep.  But  in  proof  o' 
my  words,  that  it  be  no  idle  tale,  ye 
can  go  to-morrow  morning  to  the  old 
oak  tree  with  the  secret  hollow,  and  run 
your  arm  into  the  hole  and  feel  around 
until  you  touch  summat  hard  and  small, 
wrapped  in  a  bit  o'  silk.  Ye  will  see  the 
package  contains  a  string  o'  gold  beads 
which  ye  can  look  at  and  try  on ;  for  it  is 
great  consolation  to  feel  ye  have  on  good 
gold  beads.  Watch  out,  meantime,  that 
no  witch  spy  ye.  Then  wrap  them  up,  and 


In  which  Abigail  sees  Deliverance      135 

put  them  back,  and  run  fast  away  so  ye 
be  no  tempted  to  fall  into  the  sin  o'  envy 
by  lingering,  for  ye  be  o'er  much  given  to 
hankering  for  worldly  things,  Abigail." 

"  I  ken,  I  ken,"  cried  Abigail,  breaking 
into  sobs,  "  that  I  be  no  so  spiritual 
minded  as  I  ought  to  be.  But,  oh, 
Deliverance,  my  unchastened  heart  be  all 
so  full  o'  woe  and  care  to  think  o'  ye  in 
prison,  that  I  cannot  sleep  o'  nights  for 
weeping,  and  I  continually  read  the  Script 
ures  comforting  against  death.  But  I  can 
find  no  comfort  for  thinking  on  the  good 
times  we  have  had  together,  and  so  I  fear 
I  be  a  great  reproach  unto  God." 

"  Hush,  hush  !  "  cried  Deliverance,  "  I 
hear  some  one  coming." 

There  was  a  moment  of  fearful  listening. 
Then  the  approaching  footsteps  passed 
the  door  and  went  on  down  the  corri 
dor. 

"  Now,  I  have  thought  out  a  plan 
which  be  summat  like  this,"  continued 
Deliverance.  "  Ye  must  take  a  letter  to 
Boston  Town  for  me.  If  ye  start  early 
and  don't  dawdle  by  the  way,  ye  will 


136          Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

reach  there  by  set  o'  sun.  Still,  if  ye 
should  not  arrive  until  dusk,  ye  could  ask 
the  night  watchman  the  way.  And  I 
should  advise  ye  to  put  on  no  airs  as 
being  acquaint  with  the  town,  but  to  in 
quire  humbly  o'  him  the  way  to  Harvard 
College.  I  doubt  not  he  will  be  pleased 
to  tell  ye  civilly  it  be  up  the  street  a  little 
ways,  like  as  the  boys'  school  be  here. 
So  ye  must  walk  on,  and  when  ye  have 
reached  it,  raise  the  knocker  and  rap,  and 
go  in.  There  ye  will  see  one  young  man, 
much  more  learned  and  good  to  look  at 
than  his  fellows,  and  he  will  be  my  dear 
and  only  brother,  Ronald.  After  ye 
have  asked  the  goodly  schoolmaster 
permission,  ye  must  go  up  and  pluck 
hold  o'  Ronald  by  his  doublet  sleeve,  and 
draw  him  down  to  whisper  in  his  ear  o' 
my  sore  plight.  Now,  I  think  ye  will 
find  all  this  to  be  just  as  I  say,  though  I 
have  ne'er  been  in  Boston  Town.  Ronald 
will  go  with  ye  to  search  for  the  fine 
gentleman  I  met  in  the  forest.  Then, 
when  he  has  found  him,  they  will  both 
come  and  take  me  out  o'  jail.  Bring  me 


In  which  Abigail  sees  Deliverance      137 

some  paper  and  an  ink-horn  and  quill,  so 
I  can  write  the  letter  to-morrow." 

"  I  will  come  as  soon  as  I  can,"  said 
Abigail.  "  I  would  have  come  before  this 
to-day,  but  some  horrid  boys  were  playing 
ball  in  Prison  Lane,  and  I  was  afeared  lest 
they  should  see  me  climb  the  tree,  and 
suspicion  summat." 

For  the  next  hour,  the  two  little  maids 
planned  a  course  of  action  which  they 
fondly  hoped  would  free  Deliverance. 

"  Happen  like  ye  have  seen  my  father, 
lately  ? "  asked  Deliverance,  very  wistfully, 
just  before  they  said  good-by. 

"  So  sad  he  looks,"  answered  Abigail ; 
"  shall  I  whisper  to  him  that  I  have  talked 
with  ye  ?  " 

"  Nay,"  said  Deliverance,  "  wait  until 
ye  have  returned  from  Boston  Town  with 
good  news.  Speaking  o'  news,  did  ye 
hear  whether  or  no  a  woman  by  the  name 
o'  Hobbs  was  hanged  last  week?  " 

"  That  I  did,"  replied  Abigail.  "  Father 
taked  me  to  the  hanging.  A  most  awful 
old  witch  was  she,  for  sure,  with  bones 
like  to  come  through  her  skin.  A 


138          Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

judgment  o'  God's  it  was  come  upon 
her." 

"  Oh,  Abigail,"  wailed  Deliverance, 
"  she  was  no  witch.  She  said  many  holy 
words  for  me  and  prayed  God  forgive  her 
judges.  She  was  in  this  cell  with  me." 

"  They  shut  a  witch  in  with  ye  !  "  cried 
Abigail,  aghast ;  "  she  might  have  cast  a 
spell  on  ye." 

"  She  cast  no  spell  on  me,"  answered 
Deliverance,  sadly.  "  Go  now,  lest  ye  be 
missed,  and  forget  not  to  bring  me  the 
paper,  quill,  and  ink-horn." 

Ere  Abigail  could  reply  there  were 
heavy  footsteps  in  the  corridor.  They 
paused  at  the  door. 

"  Get  ye  gone  quick,  Abigail,"  whispered 
Deliverance,  "  some  one  be  coming  in. 
Oh,  make  haste  !  "  With  wildly  beating 
heart  she  lay  down  on  the  straw  and  shut 
her  eyes. 

She  heard  the  jailer  speaking  to  some 
one  as  he  unlocked  the  door.  Unable  to 
control  her  curiosity  as  to  the  identity  of 
this  second  person,  she  opened  her  eyes, 
but  closed  them  again  spasmodically. 


In  which  Abigail  sees  Deliverance      139 

Of  the  two  persons  standing  on  the 
threshold,  one  was  the  bent  old  jailer : 
the  other  —  she  quivered  with  dread. 
Through  her  shut  lids  she  seemed  to  see 
the  familiar  figure  in  its  cape  of  sable 
velvet,  the  red  beard,  the  long  nose  be 
neath  the  steeple-crowned  hat. 

The  jailer  had  begun  to  have  doubts 
regarding  the  justice  of  the  law,  and  his 
heart  was  in  a  strange  ferment  of  dissatis 
faction,  for  he  thought  the  Devil  had 
taken  upon  himself  the  names  and  forms 
of  people  doubtless  innocent. 

Moreover,  the  witch  looked  so  like  his 
own  little  granddaughter  that  he  grumbled 
at  permitting  Sir  Jonathan  to  disturb  her. 

"  Let  the  poor  child  sleep,"  he  said, 
"  child  o'  the  Devil  though  she  be. 
Witch  or  no,  I  say,  let  her  sleep  if  she 
can  after  such  a  day  as  this.  Be  no  dis 
turbing  her,  Sir  Jonathan.  Ye  can  come 
again  i'  the  morning,  sith  ye  have  gotten 
permission  o'  the  magistrate." 

"  Very  well,  goodman,  very  well,"  an 
swered  Sir  Jonathan,  "  you  are  doubtless 
right.  I  bethink  myself  that  she  would 


140         Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

be  in  no  mood  for  amiable  converse. 
But  I  will  come  to-morrow,  bright  and 
early."  He  clapped  the  jailer  on  the 
shoulder  and  laughed  sardonically.  "  Ha, 
ha,  goodman,  'tis  the  early  bird  that 
catches  the  worm.  Best  close  a  witch's 
mouth,  I  say,  lest  she  fly  away  to  bear 
tales." 


Chapter    X 
A  Little   Life  sweetly  Lived 

DELIVERANCE  awakened  happily 
the  next  morning  for  she  had  been 
dreaming  of  home,  but  as  she  glanced 
around  her,  her  smile  vanished.  Never 
theless,  her  heart  was  lighter  than  it  had 
been  for  many  days.  Moreover,  she  was 
refreshed  by  slumber  and  was  surprised  to 
find  she  enjoyed  her  breakfast. 

She  no  longer  dreaded  the  anticipated 
visit  of  Sir  Jonathan.  He  seemed  only 
an  evil  dream  which  had  passed  with  the 
night.  Yet  when  she  heard  the  tap  of  his 
awful  stick  in  the  corridor,  and  his  voice  at 
the  door,  she  had  no  doubt  he  was  a  ter 
rible  reality.  So  great  was  her  fear  that 
she  could  not  raise  her  voice  to  greet  him 
when  he  entered,  although,  remembering 
her  manners,  she  rose  and,  despite  the 
clanking  chain,  courtesied. 
141 


142          Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

He  came  in  pompously,  flinging  the 
flaps  of  his  cape  back,  revealing  his  belted 
doublet  and  the  sword  at  his  side. 

"  'Tis  o'er  close  and  warm  in  here,"  he 
said;  "  methinks  you  have  forgotten  a  seat 
for  me,  goodman." 

"  Ha'  patience,  ha'  patience,"  muttered 
the  old  jailer,  "  I  be  no  so  young  and  spry 
as  ye,  your  lordship."  Grumbling,  he 
left  the  cell. 

While  Sir  Jonathan  waited,  he  leant 
against  the  door-casing,  swinging  his  cane 
in  time  to  a  song  he  hummed,  paying  no 
attention  to  the  little  maid.  The  jailer 
brought  him  a  three-legged  stool.  He 
seated  himself  opposite  the  little  maid, 
saying  naught  until  the  old  man  had  closed 
the  door  and  turned  the  key. 

Deliverance  dared  not  raise  her  eyes. 

Sir  Jonathan  observed  her  sharply  from 
underneath  his  steeple-hat,  his  hands 
clasped  on  the  top  of  his  walking-stick. 

This  little  witch  appeared  harmless 
enough,  with  the  fringe  of  yellow  hair  cut 
straight  across  her  round  forehead.  The 
rosy  mouth  was  tightly  compressed  ;  from 


A  Little  Life  sweetly  Lived     143 

beneath  the  blue-veined  lids,  two  tears 
forced  themselves  and  hung  on  her  eye 
lashes. 

"There  is  no  need  to  be  afeared  of  me," 
said  he.  "  I  come  only  from  a  godly  de 
sire  to  investigate  how  you  became  a  witch, 
for  I  am  thinking  of  writing  a  learned 
book  on  the  evil  art  of  witchery,  which 
shall  serve  as  a  warning  to  meddlers. 
Also  I  seek  to  lead  you  to  confess,  ere 
it  be  too  late  and  you  descend  into  the 
brimstone  pit." 

Deliverance  had  heard  such  words  be 
fore  and  known  them  to  be  for  her  soul's 
good.  But  her  heart  was  hardened  toward 
her  present  visitor,  and  his  words  made  no 
more  impression  upon  her  than  water 
dropping  on  stone.  She  looked  up 
bravely. 

"  Good  sir,"  she  said  staunchly,  "  the 
King  sends  for  his  black  powder." 

Sir  Jonathan's  face  grew  white  and  he 
stared  at  her  long.  He  opened  his  mouth 
to  reply,  but  his  dry  lips  closed  without  a 
sound.  He  jumped  up,  overturning  the 
stool,  and  paced  up  and  down  the  cell. 


144         Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

"  You  witch  !  "  he  cried  :  "  for  I  'gin  to 
think  you  are  a  witch  and  a  limb  of 
Satan." 

Deliverance  prayed  aloud,  for  she  feared 
he  would  strike  her  with  his  walking-stick. 

Sir  Jonathan  paused  and  listened  with 
amazement.  At  last  he  laughed  abruptly. 
"  Are  you  indeed  a  witch,  or  are  you  gone 
daft  and  silly  that  you  pray  ?  " 

"  I  be  no  witch,"  replied  the  little  maid 
with  dignity,  "  and  it  be  no  daffy  nor  silly 
to  pray.  And  if  it  seemeth  so  to  ye,  ye 
be  a  most  ungodly  man  and  the  burning 
pit  awaits  ye." 

Sir  Jonathan  turned  up  the  stool  and 
sat  down  again. 

"  Mistress  Deliverance  Wentworth," 
quoth  he,  wagging  his  red  beard  at  her, 
"  children  were  not  so  illy  brought  up  in 
my  young  days.  They  were  reared  in 
righteous  fear  of  their  elders  and  betters. 
But  I  have  important  business  with  you 
and  no  time  to  talk  of  froward  children. 
Now,  you  will  please  tell  me  who  taught 
you  the  lesson  you  repeat  so  well." 

Deliverance  answered  never  a  word. 


A   Little   Life  sweetly  Lived      145 

Sir  Jonathan  regarded  her  anxiously. 
"  I  could  go  to  the  magistrate  and  have 
you  forced  to  speak,"  he  said  slowly,  after 
awhile,  "  but  'tis  a  very  private  matter." 
Suddenly  a  light  broke  over  his  counte 
nance.  "  Ha,  ha,  my  fine  bird,"  he  cried, 
"  I  have  caught  you  now  !  You  saw  the 
parchment  with  the  royal  seal  I  left  with 
your  father." 

"  Good  sir,"  she  answered  wonderingly, 
"  I  wot  not  what  ye  mean." 

"  You  have  been  well  taught,"  he  said, 
frowning. 

"Ay,  good  sir,"  she  replied  sincerely, 
"  I  have  been  most  excellently  taught." 

He  puzzled  long,  shaking  his  head 
anon,  gazing  steadily  at  the  ground. 

"  Mistress,"  said  he  at  last,  looking  up 
eagerly,  "  I  had  no  thought  of  it  before, 
but  the  man  in  the  forest  —  who  might 
he  be  ?  Ay,  that  is  the  question.  Who 
was  he  ?  In  velvet,  with  slashed  sleeves, 
the  old  yeoman  said.  Come,  come,"  tap 
ping  the  floor  with  his  walking-stick,  "  who 
was  this  fine  gentleman  ?  " 

Deliverance    perceived    he  was   greatly 


146          Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

perturbed,  as  people  are  who  stumble  in 
advertently  upon  their  suspicions  of  the 
worst. 

"  I  cannot  get  through  my  head,"  said 
he,  "  who  this  fine  gentleman  might  be. 
Come,  tell  me  of  what  sort  was  this  fine 
Cavalier." 

Deliverance  made  no  reply. 

"  I  am  sore  perplexed,"  muttered  Sir 
Jonathan  ;  "  this  business  savours  ill.  I 
fear  I  wot  not  what.  Alack  !  ill  luck  has 
pursued  me  since  I  left  England.  Closer 
than  a  shadow,  it  has  crept  at  my  heels, 
ever  ready  to  have  at  my  throat." 

So  real  was  his  distress  that  Deliver 
ance  was  moved  to  pity.  For  the  moment 
she  forgot  his  persecution.  "  I  be  right 
sorry  for  ye,"  said  she. 

Now  as  Sir  Jonathan  heard  the  sym 
pathy  in  the  sweet  voice,  a  crafty  look 
came  into  his  eyes,  and  his  lids  dropped 
for  fear  the  little  maid  might  perceive 
thereby  the  thought  that  crossed  his  mind. 
He  rested  his  elbow  on  his  knee,  bowed 
his  head  on  his  hand,  and  sighed  heavily. 

"Could  you  but  know  how  persecuted 


A   Little   Life  sweetly   Lived      147 

a  man  I  am,  mistress,"  said  he,  "  you 
would  feel  grief  for  my  poor  cause. 
Alackaday,  alackaday  !  that  I  should  have 
such  an  enemy." 

"  Who  might  your  enemy  be,  good 
sir  ? "  asked  the  little  maid. 

"You  would  not  know  him,"  he  an 
swered.  "In  England  he  dwells,  —  a 
man  of  portly  presence,  with  a  dash,  a 
swagger,  a  twirl  of  his  sword.  A  man 
given  o'er  to  dress." 

Now,  in  thinking  he  could  surprise  De 
liverance  into  admitting  that  the  fine  gen 
tleman  she  had  met  that  eventful  day 
in  the  forest  was  a  man  of  such  de 
scription,  he  was  mistaken,  for  the  little 
maid  had  been  taught  to  keep  a  close 
mouth. 

"  Perchance,  I  had  best  tell  you  my 
sad  tale,"  continued  Sir  Jonathan.  "  I 
was  obliged  to  flee  England,  lest  mine 
enemy  poison  me.  Spite  of  his  open  air 
and  swagger,  he  was  a  snake  in  the  grass, 
forever  ready  to  strike  at  my  heel,  to 
sting  me  covertly  in  darkness.  An  hon 
est  man  knows  no  defence  against  such  a 


148          Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

villain.  Why  look  you  so  at  me  ?  I 
harbour  no  malice  against  you." 

"But  why,  good  sir,"  said  she,  "and 
ye  bore  me  no  malice,  did  ye  tell  the 
reverend  judges  that  I  had  muttered  an 
imprecation,  and  cast  a  spell  on  ye  ?  " 

"How  did  you  know  the  words  you 
spoke,  words  which  filled  me  with  bitter 
ness  and  pain,  unless  you  have  a  familiar 
spirit  ?  "  he  asked. 

"No  familiar  spirit  have  I,"  answered 
Deliverance,  pitifully.  "  I  be  no  witch  to 
mutter  unco  words." 

"  I  know  not,  I  know  not,"  said  Sir 
Jonathan,  shrugging  his  shoulders ;  "  but 
I  shall  believe  you  a  witch  and  you  be 
unable  to  explain  those  words." 

"Oh,  lack-a-mercy-me  !  "  said  Deliver 
ance.  "  Oh,  lack-a-mercy-me,  whatever 
shall  I  do  !  "  And  she  lifted  her  petticoat, 
and  wiped  her  eyes  and  sighed  most  drearily. 

Sir  Jonathan  sighed  also  in  a  still  more 
dreary  fashion. 

"  This  be  fair  awful,"  said  Deliverance. 
"  I  ken  not  which  to  believe,  ye  or  the 
gentleman  in  the  forest." 


A  Little  Life  sweetly   Lived      149 

"  What  said  he  ?  "  asked  Sir  Jonathan, 
eagerly. 

"  Nay,  good  sir,"  protested  Deliverance, 
"  I  must  have  time  to  think."  Even  as 
she  spoke,  she  recalled  the  stranger's 
smile,  the  love-light  in  his  eyes  as  he 
showed  her  the  miniature  of  his  sweetest 
daughter.  All  doubt  that  he  had  de 
ceived  her  was  swallowed  up  in  a  wave  of 
keenest  conviction  that  only  an  honest 
gentleman  could  so  sincerely  love  his 
daughter,  —  even  as  her  father  loved  her. 
And  all  the  former  distrust  and  resent 
ment  she  had  entertained  toward  Sir  Jona 
than  came  back  with  renewed  force. 

"  I  will  not  tell  ye,"  she  said.  "  Have 
I  not  given  my  good  and  loyal  word  ? 
Nay,  good  sir,  I  will  not  tell  ye." 

"  There  are  ways  to  make  stubborn 
tongues  speak,"  he  threatened. 

Deliverance  pursed  up  her  mouth  ob 
stinately,  and  looked  away  from  him. 

Sir  Jonathan  pondered  long. 

"  There  are  ways,"  he  muttered.  "Nay, 
I  would  not  be  ungentle.  We'll  strike  a 
goodly  bargain.  Come  now,  my  pretty 


150          Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

mistress,  tell  me  the  secret  the  stranger 
telled  you.  It  has  brought  you  naught 
but  grief.  I  promise,  and  you  do,  that 
you  shall  not  be  hanged.  How  like  you 
that  ? " 

At  these  words  Deliverance  paled. 
"  How  could  ye  keep  me  from  being 
hanged,  good  sir?"  she  faltered,  and  hung 
her  head.  She  did  not  meet  his  glance 
for  very  shame  of  the  thought  which 
made  parleying  with  him  possible,  —  the 
desire  to  save  herself. 

"  Ay,  trust  me,"  he  replied.  "  I  will  be 
true  to  my  bargain  and  you  tell  me  the 
truth.  I  am  a  person  of  importance,  learn 
ing,  and  have  mickle  gold.  This  I  tell 
with  no  false  assumption  of  modesty,"  he 
added  pompously.  "  I  will  tell  the  magis 
trates  that  I  have  discovered  the  witch  who 
hanged  her  evil  deeds  on  you,  that  the  law 
has  laid  hold  of  the  wrong  person.  Then 
will  I  demand  that  you  have  a  new  trial." 

Deliverance  began  to  sob,  for  at  his 
words  all  her  terror  of  being  hanged  re 
turned.  Suppose  Abigail  should  fail,  — 
she  grew  faint  at  the  thought. 


A   Little  Life  sweetly   Lived      151 

Was  it  not  better  to  tell  the  secret  and 
return  to  her  poor  father,  to  Ronald,  and 
to  Goodwife  Higgins  ?  So  she  wept  bit 
terly  for  shame  at  the  temptation  which  as 
sailed  her,  and  for  terror  lest  she  should 
be  hanged. 

"  Good  sir  !  "  she  cried  piteously,  "  I 
pray  ye  tempt  me  not  to  be  false  to  my 
word.  I  pray  ye,  leave  me." 

Sir  Jonathan  rose.  A  fleeting  smile  of 
triumph  appeared  on  his  face.  "  Think 
well  of  my  words,  mistress,"  said  he  ;  "  to 
morrow  at  this  time  I  will  come  for  my 
answer."  He  knocked  on  the  door  with 
his  walking-stick  for  the  jailer  to  come 
and  let  him  out.  While  he  waited,  he 
hummed  lightly  an  Old  World  air,  and 
brushed  off  some  straws  which  clung  to 
his  velvet  clothes. 

Deliverance,  still  weeping,  hid  her  face 
in  her  hands,  deeply  shamed.  For  she 
feared  what  her  answer  would  be  on  the 
morrow. 

The  jailer  returned  from  showing  Sir 
Jonathan  out.  He  picked  up  the  stool 
to  take  it  away,  yet  hesitated  to  go. 


152          Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

"  I  ha'  brought  ye  a  few  goodies,"  he 
said,  and  dropped  the  sweetmeats  in  her 
lap. 

"  I  thank  ye,"  said  Deliverance,  humbly, 
"  but  I  have  no  stomach  for  them." 

Still  the  old  man  lingered.  "  Mayhaps 
ye  confessed  to  his  lordship  ?  " 

"  I  be  no  witch,"  said  Deliverance. 

The  old  man  nodded.  "  Ay,  it  be 
what  they  all  say.  It  be  awful  times.  I 
ha'  lived  a  long  life,  mistress,  but  I  ne'er 
thought  to  see  such  sights."  He  tiptoed 
to  the  threshold,  and  looked  up  and  down 
the  corridor  to  assure  himself  none  were 
near  to  hear.  "  I  ha'  my  doubts,"  he  con 
tinued,  returning  to  the  little  maid,  "I  ha' 
my  doubts.  I  wot  not  there  ha'  been 
those  that  ha'  been  hanged,  innocent  as 
the  new-born  babe.  Who  kens  who  will 
next  be  cried  upon  as  a  witch  ?  As  I  sit 
a-sunning  in  the  doorway,  smoking  my 
pipe,  the  whilst  I  nod  i'  greeting  to  the 
passers-by,  I  says  to  myself,  c  Be  not 
proud  because  ye  be  young,  or  rich,  or  a 
scholar.  Ye  may  yet  be  taked  up  for  a 
witch,  an'  the  old  jailer  put  i'  authority 


A   Little   Life  sweetly  Lived      153 

o'er  ye.'  '  He  lifted  the  stool  again.  "  I 
ha'  my  doubts,"  he  muttered,  going  out 
and  locking  the  door. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  Abigail  came  again. 

"  Deliverance,"  she  said,  "  be  ye  there  ?  " 
She  could  not  see  Deliverance,  who  lay  on 
her  straw  bed  beneath  the  window. 

A  meek  voice  from  the  darkness  below 
replied,  "  I  be  here  wrestling  with  Satan." 
Deliverance  rose  as  she  spoke.  "Oh, 
Abigail,"  she  said,  meeting  her  friend's 
glance,  "  I  be  sore  bruised,  buffeting  with 
Satan.  I  fear  God  has  not  pardoned  my 
sins.  I  be  sore  tempted.  Sir  Jonathan 
was  here  to-day." 

"Bah,  the  Old  Ruddy-Beard,"  sniffed 
Abigail,  "  with  his  stick  forever  tapping 
and  his  sharp  nose  poking  into  everybody's 
business !  I  suspicion  he  be  a  witch. 
Where  gets  he  his  mickle  gold  ? " 

"  He  be  a  wicked  man,"  answered 
Deliverance,  "  and  now  I  do  perceive  he 
be  sent  o'  the  Lord  to  test  my  strength. 
But  have  ye  heard  yet  o'  the  fine  gentle 
man  I  telled  ye  o'  yesterday  ?  " 

"  Nay,"  replied  Abigail. 


154         Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

"  Then  sum  mat  unforeseen  has  held  him 
in  Boston  Town,  for  the  more  I  think  o' 
his  goodly  countenance,  the  more  con 
vinced  I  be  o'  his  goodly  heart,  though  he 
be  high-stomached  and  given  o'er  to  dress, 
which  ye  ken  be  not  the  way  to  heaven," 
continued  Deliverance.  "  Did  ye  bring 
the  paper  ? " 

"  I  brought  my  diary,"  answered  Abi 
gail,  "  and  ye  can  tear  out  as  many 
pages  as  ye  need,  but  no  more,  and  I  also 
brought  ye  your  knitting  that  ye  might 
have  summat  to  do." 

She  lowered  by  a  string  the  little  diary, 
the  tiny  ink-horn  and  quill,  and  a  half- 
finished  stocking,  the  needles  thrust 
through  the  ball  of  yarn. 

In  cautious  whispers,  with  eyes  anxiously 
fastened  on  the  door  lest  it  open,  the  two 
little  maids  planned  every  detail  of  the 
course  of  action  they  had  decided  to  follow. 

But  after  Abigail  had  said  good-night, 
Deliverance  sat  motionless  a  long  time. 
All  knowledge  of  the  village  came  to  her 
only  in  the  sounds  that  floated  through 
the  window.  She  heard  the  jingle  of  bells 


A   Little   Life  sweetly   Lived     155 

and  a  mild  lowing,  and  knew  it  was  milk- 
ing-time  and  that  the  cows  were  being 
driven  home  through  Prison  Lane.  She 
wondered  if  Hiram  had  yet  mended  the 
meadow  bars.  Later  she  heard  the  boys 
playing  ball  in  the  lane,  and  she  seemed  to 
see  the  greensward  tracked  by  cow-paths 
and  dotted  by  golden  buttercups.  At 
last  the  joyous  shoutings  of  the  boys 
ceased  and  gave  way  to  the  sound  of  drum 
ming.  She  could  see  the  town-drummer 
walking  back  and  forth  on  the  platform 
above  the  meeting-house  door,  calling  the 
people  to  worship. 

Suddenly  she  thought  of  her  father. 
She  put  forth  her  arms,  reaching  in  vain 
embrace.  "  Oh,  my  dear  father,"  she 
cried,  and  her  voice  broke  with  longing, 
"  oh,  my  dear  father,  I  be  minded  o'  ye 
grieving  for  me  all  so  lonesome  in  the  still- 
room  !  Alas,  who  will  pluck  ye  June  roses 
for  the  beauty  waters  ?  " 

Sad  though  her  thoughts  were  that  she 
could  not  see  him,  yet  these  very  thoughts 
of  him  at  last  brought  her  peace. 

She  knew  that  Sir  Jonathan's  proposal 


156          Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

to  procure  a  new  trial  for  her  had  found 
favour  in  her  heart,  and  she  feared  what 
her  answer  would  be  on  the  morrow. 
Underneath  her  tears  and  prayers,  un 
derneath  her  gladness  and  relief  to  see 
Abigail  and  the  plans  they  had  devised, 
was  the  shamed  determination  to  reveal 
the  secret  rather  than  be  hanged.  She 
would  hold  out  to  the  last  moment, 
then  —  if  Abigail  were  able  to  accomplish 
nothing  —  the  little  maid's  cheeks  burned 
in  the  darkness,  burned  with  such  shame 
at  her  guilty  resolve  that  she  put  her  hands 
over  them. 

In  the  darkness  she  saw  forming  a 
shadowy  picture  of  the  dearest  face  in  the 
world  to  her,  her  father's  long  thin  face, 
with  its  kindly  mouth  and  mild  blue  eyes. 
All  her  life  Deliverance  believed  that,  in 
some  mysterious  way,  her  father  came  to 
her  in  prison  that  night.  However  it  was, 
she  thought  that  he  asked  her  no  question, 
but  seemed  to  look  down  into  her  heart 
and  see  all  her  shame  and  weakness. 

She  shrank  from  his  gaze,  putting  her 
hands  over  her  breast  to  hide  her  heart 


A   Little   Life  sweetly  Lived      157 

away  from  him.  Was  it  not  better,  she 
urged,  she  should  commit  just  one  small 
sin,  and  return  to  him  and  Ronald,  and  live 
a  long  life  so  good  that  it  would  atone  for 
the  wrong-doing  ? 

But  he  answered  that  a  little  life 
sweetly  lived  was  longer  in  God's  sight 
than  a  life  of  many  years  stained  by  sin. 

She  asked  him  if  it  were  not  a  great  pain 
to  be  hanged  when  one  was  innocent,  and  he 
admonished  her  that  it  was  a  greater  pain 
to  lose  one's  loyal  word  and  betray  one's 
King  who  was  next  to  God  in  authority. 

All  at  once  he  faded  away  in  a  bright 
light.  Deliverance  opened  her  eyes  and 
found  that  the  long  night  had  passed,  that 
the  morning  had  come,  and  that  she  must 
have  been  dreaming.  She  lay  silent  for  a 
long  time  before  rising.  All  the  shame  of 
yesterday  had  gone  from  her  heart,  which 
was  washed  clean  and  filled  with  peace. 
She  whispered  very  softly  the  words  of  her 
dream,  A  little  life  sweetly  lived. 

Her  hour  of  temptation  was  passed. 

Thus  Deliverance  knew  God  had  par 
doned  her  sins. 


Chapter  XI 
Abigail  goes  to  Boston  Town 

THAT  same  morning,  while  it  was 
still  in  the  cool  of  the  day  and  the 
sun  cast  long  shadows  across  the  dew-wet 
grass,  Abigail  was  making  her  way  along 
the  forest  path  which  led  to  Deliverance's 
home.  In  a  pail  she  carried  ginger-cook 
ies  her  mother  had  sent  in  exchange  for 
some  of  Goodwife  Higgins'  famous  cheese- 
balls. 

Since  such  woeful  misfortune  had  be 
fallen  its  little  mistress,  the  farmhouse 
seemed  to  have  acquired  a  sorrowful  as 
pect.  The  gate  swung  open  dismally,  and 
weeds  had  sprung  up  boldly  in  the  gar 
den.  Abigail  went  round  to  the  kitchen. 

It  was  empty.  The  floor  had  been 
freshly  sprinkled  with  sand ;  the  milk- 
pans  were  scoured  and  shining  in  the 
sun  ;  a  black  pot,  filled  with  water,  swung 
158 


Abigail  goes  to   Boston  Town      159 

over  the  fire,  and  Deliverance's  kitten 
slumbered  on  the  hearthstone. 

Abigail  placed  the  pail  of  cookies  on 
the  table  and  seated  herself  to  await  Good- 
wife  Higgins'  return.  Soon  the  goodwife 
entered,  bearing  a  big  golden  pumpkin 
from  the  storehouse. 

"  I  be  glad  to  see  ye,  Abigail,  if  a 
sorrowful  heart  kens  aught  o'  gladness," 
she  said,  putting  down  the  pumpkin. 
"  Ye  look  well  and  prosperous.  I  won 
der  if  my  little  Deliverance  has  sufficient 
to  eat  and  warm  clothing  o'  night.  I 
have  reared  her  tenderly,  only  to  strike 
her  a  blow  when  most  she  needed  me. 
I  carry  a  false  and  heavy  heart."  She 
sat  down  and,  flinging  her  apron  over  her 
head,  sobbed  aloud. 

Abigail  longed  to  tell  the  poor  dame 
she  had  seen  Deliverance,  but  dared  not. 

After  a  little,  the  goodwife  drew  her 
apron  from  her  head  and  wiped  her  eyes 
with  a  corner  of  it.  "  Hark  ye,  Abigail, 
the  Lord  has  punished  me,  that  I  took  it 
upon  myself  to  be  a  judge  o'  witches.  Ye 
recall  how  I  telled  the  reverend  judges  I 


160         Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

had  seen  a  yellow  bird.  I  saw  that  bird 
again  at  rise  o'  sun  this  morn." 

Abigail  shivered,  although  the  fire  was 
warm,  and  glanced  around  apprehensively. 
"  It  was  the  witch,"  she  cried,  "  what 
hanged  her  evil  deeds  on  Deliverance." 

"  It  was  no  witch,"  cried  the  goodwife. 
"  I  would  it  had  been  a  witch." 

Abigail  edged  off  her  stool.  "  I  must 
be  going,"  she  said ;  "  methinks  I  hear  a 
witch  scratching  on  the  floor." 

But  her  companion  pushed  her  back. 
"  Sit  ye  down.  I  have  summat  to  tell 
ye.  The  hand  o'  the  Lord  be  in  it,  and 
laid  in  judgment  on  me.  Betimes  this 
morn,  led  o'  the  Lord,  I  went  to  Deliver 
ance's  room.  There  on  the  sill  was  the 
yellow  bird.  My  heart  was  so  full  o' 
sadness,  there  was  no  room  for  fear.  '  Gin 
ye  be  a  witch,  ye  yellow  bird,'  said  I,  '  ye 
will  have  hanged  a  maid  that  knew  not 
sin.'  At  this  the  bird  flew  off  and  lighted 
in  the  red  oak  tree  o'  the  edge  o'  the 
clearing.  I  put  my  Bible  in  my  pocket 
and  hurried  out  after  it.  As  I  neared  the 
red  oak,  I  shuddered,  for  I  thought  to 


Abigail  goes  to  Boston  Town      161 

find  the  bird  changed  into  an  hag  with 
viper  eyes.  But  naught  was  to  be  seen. 
I  looked  up  into  the  branches.  I  cried, 
'  Ye  shall  not  escape  me,  ye  limb  o'  Satan,' 
and  with  that  I  clomb  the  tree.  It  was 
a  triumph  o'  the  flesh  at  my  years,  and 
proof  that  the  Lord  was  holpen  me.  As 
I  stood  on  the  lower  branches,  I  spied 
a  nest  and  four  eggs.  I  heard  a  peep, 
and  saw  the  mother-bird  had  fluttered  off 
a  little  way.  At  her  call  came  the  yellow 
bird,  her  mate,  and  flew  in  my  face.  Then 
I  was  minded  these  very  birds  nested  there 
last  spring.  I  suspicioned  all.  My  little 
Deliverance  had  scattered  crumbs  on  the 
window-ledge  for  the  birds." 

"  Did  ye  look  for  to  see  ? "  asked  Abigail. 

The  goodwife  nodded  sadly.  "  Ay,  I 
found  many  in  the  cracks.  I  be  going  to 
see  the  magistrate  and  confess  my  grievous 
mistake.  Bide  ye  here,  Abigail,  whilst  I 
be  gone,  as  Master  Wentworth  has  gone 
herb-gathering.  I  will  stop  by  and  leave 
the  cream  cheeses  at  your  mother's." 

Left  alone,  Abigail  tied  on  an  apron  and 
went  briskly  to  work  at  the  task  the  dame 


1 62         Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

had  given  her.  She  cut  the  best  part  of 
the  pumpkin  into  dice  an  inch  square,  in 
order  to  make  a  side  dish  to  accompany 
meat.  When  well  made  it  was  almost  as 
good  as  apple  sauce.  Having  cut  the 
pumpkin  up,  she  put  it  into  a  pot,  and 
poured  over  it  a  cup  of  cider-vinegar. 
Then  she  swung  the  pot  on  the  lugpole 
and  stirred  the  fire.  She  sighed  with  re 
lief  when  the  task  was  finished.  At  last 
she  was  free  to  attend  to  Deliverance's 
errand.  Was  ever  anything  so  fortunate 
as  the  goodwife's  mission  to  the  village  ? 

She  opened  the  still-room  door  and 
stepped  inside.  The  window-shutters 
were  closed.  All  was  cool,  dark,  and 
filled  with  sweet  scents.  At  first  she 
could  see  nothing,  being  dazzled  by  the 
light  from  which  she  had  just  come. 
Something  brushed  against  her  ankles, 
frightening  her.  But  when  she  heard  a 
soft  purring,  she  was  greatly  relieved  that 
it  was  Deliverance's  kitten.  With  great 
curiosity  she  looked  around  the  room, 
which  she  had  never  before  entered. 
Under  the  window  a  long  board  served  as 


Abigail  goes  to  Boston  Town      163 

a  work-table.  It  held  a  variety  of  bowls, 
measuring  spoons,  and  bottles.  In  the 
centre  was  a  very  large  bowl,  covered  by 
a  plate.  She  lifted  the  cover  and  peered 
in,  but  instantly  clapped  the  plate  on  again. 
A  nauseating  odour  had  arisen  from  the 
black  liquid  it  contained.  Hastily  Abigail 
closed  the  door  that  the  terrible  fumes 
might  not  escape  into  the  kitchen.  She 
now  perceived  close  by  the  bowl  a  parch 
ment,  which  was  written  upon  with  black 
ink  and  stamped  with  a  scarlet  seal.  With 
ringers  that  trembled  at  their  daring,  she 
put  the  parchment  in  her  pocket.  As  she 
turned  to  go  she  screamed,  unmindful  in 
her  fright  that  she  might  be  heard. 

For,  from  a  dark  corner,  there  jumped 
at  her  a  witch  in  the  form  of  a  toad. 

Now  it  is  all  very  well  for  a  little  maid 
to  stand  still  and  scream  when  assailed  by 
a  witch,  but  when  a  second  and  a  third,  a 
fourth,  a  fifth,  and  even  a  sixth  witch  ap 
pear,  hopping  like  toads,  it  behooves  that 
little  maid  to  stop  screaming  and  turn  her 
attention  to  the  best  plan  of  removing  her 
self  from  their  vicinity.  So  Abigail  fran- 


164         Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

tically  stepped  upon  a  stool  and  thence  to 
the  table.  Then  she  looked  down.  She 
saw  the  six  witches  squatted  in  a  row  on 
the  floor,  all  looking  up  at  her,  blinking 
their  bright  eyes.  They  had  such  a  know 
ing  and  mischievous  air  that  she  felt  a  yet 
greater  distance  from  them  would  be  more 
acceptable.  With  an  ease  born  of  long 
experience  in  climbing  trees,  she  swung 
herself  to  the  rafter  above  the  table.  Her 
feet,  hanging  over,  were  half  concealed  by 
the  bunches  of  dried  herbs  tied  to  the 
beams.  She  had  no  sooner  seated  herself 
as  comfortably  as  possible,  when  she  heard 
footsteps  and  the  tap  of  a  walking-stick  in 
the  kitchen.  Another  moment  and  the 
door  opened,  and  Sir. Jonathan  Jamieson 
put  his  head  inside. 

"  Are  you  in,  Master  Wentworth  ?  "  he 
asked.  Receiving  no  reply  he  stepped 
inside.  He  lifted  the  cover  from  the  large 
bowl  and  instantly  recoiled.  "  Faugh," 
he  muttered,  "  the  stuff  has  a  sickish 
smell."  He  searched  the  table,  even 
peered  into  the  pockets  of  Master  Went- 
worth's  dressing-gown  hanging  on  the  wall. 


Abigail  goes  to   Boston  Town      165 

Abigail,  holding  her  small  nose  tightly, 
silently  prayed.  The  dust  she  had  raised 
from  the  herbs  made  her  desire  to  sneeze. 

Suddenly  Sir  Jonathan  sneezed  vio 
lently. 

"  Kerchew,"  came  a  mild  little  echo. 

"  Kerchew ! "  sneezed  Sir  Jonathan  again. 

"  Kerchew,"  went  Abigail  in  instant 
imitation. 

"  Kerchew ! "  sneezed  Sir  Jonathan, 
more  violently  than  ever  this  third  time. 

"  Kerchew,"  followed  Abigail. 

'  O 

Sir  Jonathan  glanced  around  suspiciously 
at  this  last  distinct  echo.  But  he  saw 
nothing  unusual.  He  poked  the  toad 
witches  with  his  stick.  "  Scat !  "  said  he, 
and  they  all  jumped  back  into  their  dark 
corners.  After  some  further  searching, 
he  went  out  muttering  to  himself. 

Abigail  could  see  him  through  the  open 
door  pacing  up  and  down  the  kitchen, 
awaiting  Master  Wentworth.  But  at  last 

o 

growing  impatient  he  went  away. 

Abigail,  not  daring  to  get  down,  quiv 
ered  at  every  sound,  fearing  it  was  Master 
Wentworth  returning.  An  appetizing 


1 66          Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

odour  of  the  pumpkin  was  wafted  to  her. 
She  was  indeed  in  a  quandary  now.  If 
she  descended,  how  should  she  escape  the 
witches  ?  If  she  let  the  pumpkin  burn, 
she  would  have  to  explain  how  it  happened 
to  the  goodwife.  She  sniffed  anxiously. 
Surely  the  pumpkin  was  scorching.  All 
housewifely  instinct  aroused,  she  descended, 
and  with  a  shudder  at  encountering  the 
witches,  bounded  from  the  room,  slam 
ming  the  door  after  her. 

She  was  just  in  time  to  save  the  pump 
kin.  She  added  some  butter  and  sweeten 
ing  and  a  pretty  pinch  of  ginger.  While 
thus  engaged,  Master  Wentworth  returned. 
He  greeted  her  kindly,  not  observing  the 
goodwife's  absence,  and  seated  himself  at 
the  table  to  sort  his  herbs. 

But  Abigail  noticed  he  did  not  touch 
them,  only  sat  quietly,  shading  his  eyes 
with  his  hand. 

The  silence  was  broken  by  a  scratching 
at  the  still-room  door. 

Master  Wentworth  rose  and  opened  it, 
and  the  kitten  walked  out  purring,  its  tail 
proudly  erect. 


Abigail  goes  to   Boston  Town      167 

There  are  various  ways  of  banishing 
indiscreet  witches  who  assume  the  form 
of  toads. 

"  It  is  strange  how  it  came  in  there," 
remarked  Master  Wentworth,  mildly ; 
"  the  goodwife  seldom  enters." 

Abigail,  with  guiltily  red  cheeks,  stirred 
the  pumpkin  briskly.  But  when  she 
glanced  again  at  her  host,  she  perceived 
he  was  thinking  neither  of  her  nor  of  the 
kitten.  She  could  not  know,  however, 
that  his  eyes,  fixed  in  a  far-away  gaze, 
seemed  to  see  the  green  and  sunken  grave, 
blue  with  innocents  and  violets,  where 
Deliverance's  mother  slept. 

"  Master  Wentworth,"  Abigail  sum 
moned  up  courage  to  ask,  "  would  ye  mind 
biding  here  alone  until  the  goodwife  re 
turns  ?  " 

"  Nay,"  he  answered,  "  I  mind  it  not." 

"  And  would  ye  be  above  giving  the 
pumpkin  a  stir  once  in  awhile?"  she  vent 
ured  timidly.  And  as  he  nodded  assent, 
she  put  the  spoon  in  his  hand  and  left  him. 
When  Goodwife  Higgins  returned, 
weary,  disappointed  that  she  could  not  ob- 


1 68          Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

tain  the  hearing  of  the  magistrates, —  who 
were  in  court,  —  she  found  Master  Went- 
worth  sitting  as  in  a  dream,  the  spoon  in 
his  hand  and  the  odour  of  burning  pump 
kin  filling  the  air. 

"The  naughty  baggage!"  muttered  the 
goodwife;  "just  wait  till  I  clap  eyes  on 
her." 

The  following  day  the  disappearance  of 
Abigail  Brewster  caused  general  conster 
nation  in  Salem  Town.  She  had  left  home 
early  in  the  morning  for  school.  Several 
boys  asserted  having  seen  her  in  Prison 
Lane.  No  further  traces  of  her  were 
found.  Many  villagers  had  seen  evil  spirits 
in  the  guise  of  Frenchmen  and  Indians 
lurking  in  the  surrounding  forest ;  and 
when  by  night  the  child  was  still  missing, 
it  was  popularly  believed  that  one  of  these 
evil  spirits  had  borne  the  little  maid  away. 

Meanwhile  the  object  of  this  anxiety 
was  trudging  serenely  the  path  to  Boston 
Town,  carrying  her  shoes  and  stockings, 
her  petticoat  turned  up  to  her  knees, 
there  being  many  fordways  to  cross. 


Chapter    XII 
Mr.    Cotton   Mather  visits   Deliverance 

NOW,  upon  the  very  day  of  Abigail's 
disappearance,  ye  godly  minister 
of  Boston  Town,  Mr.  Cotton  Mather, 
was  in  Salem  in  attendance  upon  the  trial 
of  an  old  woman,  whose  spectre  had  ap 
peared  to  several  people  and  terrified 
them  with  horrible  threats.  Furthermore, 
the  Beadle  had  testified  to  having  seen 
her  "  Dead  Shape  "  lurking  in  the  very 
pulpit  of  the  church.  It  was  with  un 
usual  relish  Cotton  Mather  had  heard 
her  condemnation  to  death,  considering 
her  crime,  in  particular,  deliberate  treason 
to  the  Lord. 

As  he  stepped  from  the  hot  and  dusty 
court  into  the  fresh  air,  salt  with  the  sea 
and  bright  with  the  sunshine,  a  great  rush 
of  gladness  filled  his  heart,  and  he  men 
tally  framed  a  prayer  that  with  God's 
assistance  he  might  rid  this  fair,  new  land 
169 


1 70         Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

of  witches,  and  behold  the  church  of  his 
fathers  firmly  established.  Leaving  his 
horse  for  the  present  where  it  was  tied  to 
the  hitching-post,  outside  the  meeting 
house,  he  walked  slowly  down  the  village 
street  to  the  inn,  there  to  have  luncheon 
before  setting  out  for  Boston  Town. 

The  fruit  trees  growing  adown  the 
street  were  green,  and  cast  little  clumps 
of  shadow  on  the  cobblestone  pavement. 
And  he  thought  of  their  fruitage — being 
minded  to  happy  thoughts  at  remem 
brance  of  duty  done — in  the  golden  au 
tumn,  when  the  stern  Puritans  held  a  feast 
day  in  thanksgiving  to  the  Lord. 

All  the  impassioned  tenderness  of  the 
poet  awoke  in  him  at  the  sight  of  these 
symbolical  little  trees. 

"  And  there  are  the  fair  fruit  trees,"  he 
murmured,  "  and  also  the  trees  of  empti 
ness." 

Now  he  bowed  to  a  group  of  the  gos 
sips  knitting  on  a  door-stoop  in  the  sun, 
and  now  he  stooped  to  set  upon  its  feet 
a  little  child  that  had  fallen.  At  the 
stocks  he  dispelled  sternly  a  group  of 


Cotton   Mather  visits  Deliverance      171 

boys  who  were  tickling  the  feet  of  the 
writhing  prisoners. 

Thus,  in  one  of  the  rarely  serene  mo 
ments  of  his  troubled  life,  he  made  his 
leisurely  way. 

But  only  his  exalted  mood,  wrapping 
him  as  an  invisible,  impenetrable  garment, 
enabled  him  to  pass  thus  serenely. 

To  every  one  else  a  weight  of  terror 
hung  like  a  pall.  The  awful  superstition 
seemed  in  the  very  air  they  breathed. 
How  unnatural  the  blue  sky!  What  a 
relief  to  their  strained  nerves  would  have 
been  another  mighty  storm  !  Then  might 
they  have  shrieked  the  terror  which  pos 
sessed  them,  but  now  the  villagers  spoke 
in  whispers,  so  terrible  the  silence  of  the 
bright  noonday.  And  many,  although 
aware  of  the  fact  that  the  evil  spirits  were 
mostly  abroad  at  night,  yet  longed  for  the 
darkness  to  come  and  cover  them.  No 
man  dared  glance  at  his  neighbour.  From 
one  cottage  came  the  cry  of  a  babe  yet  in 
swaddling  clothes,  deserted  by  its  panic- 
stricken  mother,  who  believed  it  pos 
sessed  by  an  evil  spirit. 


172          Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

Yet,  mechanically  the  villagers  pursued 
their  daily  duties. 

At  the  tavern,  Cotton  Mather  found 
Judge  Samuel  Sewall  and  the  school 
master —  who  acted  as  clerk  in  court  — 
conversing  over  their  mugs  of  sack. 
Pleased  to  fall  in  with  such  company,  he 
drew  his  stool  up  to  their  table. 

"Alas,  my  dear  friend,"  said  the  good 
judge,  "  this  witchery  business  weighs 
heavy  on  my  soul !  I  cannot  foresee  an 
end  to  it,  and  know  not  who  will  next  be 
cried  out  upon.  'Tis  a  sorry  jest,  I  wot, 
but  meseemeth,  in  time,  the  hangman  will 
be  the  only  man  left  in  this  afflicted  town 
ship.  E'en  my  stomach  turns  'gainst  my 
best  loved  dishes." 

On  the  younger  man's  serene,  almost 
exalted  face  came  a  humanizing  gleam  of 
gentle  ridicule.  "  Then  indeed  has  the 
Lord  used  this  witchery  business  to  one 
godly  purpose,  at  least,  if  you  do  turn 
from  things  of  the  flesh,  Samuel."  A 
rare  sweetness,  born  of  the  serenity  of  his 
mind  and  his  friendship,  was  in  his  glance. 

"  Nay,    nay,"    spoke    the    good  judge, 


Cotton   Mather  visits  Deliverance      173 

gruffly,  "  'tis  an  ill  conscience  and  an 
haughty  stomach  go  together.  No  liking 
have  I  for  the  man  who  turns  from  his 
food.  Alas,  that  such  a  man  should  be  I 
and  I  should  be  such  a  man!  "  he  groaned. 
"  The  face  of  that  child  we  condemned 
troubles  me  o'  nights." 

A  menacing  frown  transformed  Cotton 
Mather's  face,  and  he  was  changed  from 
the  genial  friend  into  the  Protestant  priest, 
imperious  in  his  decisions.  He  struck 
his  hand  heavily  on  the  table.  "  Shall 
we,  then,  be  wrought  upon  by  a  round 
cheek  and  tender  years,  and  shrink  from 
doing  the  Lord's  bidding  ?  Most  evil  is 
the  way  of  such  a  maid,  and  more  to  be 
dreaded  than  all  the  old  hags  of  Christen 
dom." 

"  Ay,"  joined  in  the  schoolmaster, 
"  most  evil  is  the  way  of  such  a  maid ! 
Strange  rumours  are  afloat  regarding  her. 
'Tis  said,  that  for  the  peace  of  the  com 
munity  she  cannot  be  hanged  too  soon. 
'Tis  whispered  that  the  glamour  of  her 
way  has  e'en  cast  a  spell  on  the  old  jailer. 
Moreover,  the  woman  of  Ipswich,  who 


174         Ye  Lyttle  Salem  Maide 

was  hanged  a  fortnight  ago,  did  pray  that 
the  witch-maid  be  saved.  Now  'tis  an 
unco  uncanny  thing,  as  all  the  world 
knows,  that  one  witch  should  desire  good 
to  another  witch." 

Cotton  Mather  turned  a  terrible  glance 
upon  the  great  judge.  "  O  fool  !  "  he 
cried,  "  do  you  not  perceive  the  work  of 
the  Devil  in  all  this  ?  The  woman  of 
Ipswich  would  have  had  the  witch-maid 
saved  that  her  own  black  spirit  might  pass 
into  this  fair  child's  form,  and  thus,  with 
double  force,  working  in  one  body,  the 
two  witches  would  wreak  evil  on  the 
world." 

"  Nay,  nay,"  protested  the  judge,  "  my 
flesh  is  weaker  than  my  willing  spirit,  and, 
I  fear  me,  wrought  upon  by  a  fair  seeming 
and  the  vanity  of  outward  show.  But  we 
must  back  to  court,  my  good  friend,"  he 
added,  addressing  the  schoolmaster. 

So  the  two  arose  and  donned  their 
steeple-hats  and  took  their  walking-sticks, 
and  arm-in-arm  they  went  slowly  down 
the  middle  of  the  street. 

Cotton   Mather,  as  he  lunched,  became 


Cotton   Mather  visits  Deliverance      175 

absorbed  in  troubled  thought.  The  con 
viction  grew  that  it  was  his  duty  to  inves 
tigate  to  the  full  and  personally  these 
rumours  of  the  witch-maid.  Also,  he 
would  seek  to  lead  her  to  confession  to 
the  salvation  of  her  own  soul,  and,  further, 
that  he  might  learn  something  regarding 
the  evil  ways  of  witches,  and  by  some 
good  wit  turn  their  own  methods  against 
them  to  the  establishment  of  the  Lord. 

Full  of  eager  resolve,  he  did  not  finish 
his  luncheon,  but  left  the  tavern  and  pro 
ceeded  to  the  jail. 

There  he  had  the  old  jailer  open  the 
door  of  the  cell  very  softly,  that  he  might, 
by  some  good  chance,  surprise  the  prisoner 
in  evil  doing. 

Quietly  the  old  jailer  swung  open  the 
door. 

Cotton  Mather  saw  a  little  maiden 
seated  on  a  straw  pallet,  knitting.  Some 
wisps  of  the  straw  clung  to  her  fair  hair, 
some  to  her  linsey-woolsey  petticoat. 
Where  the  iron  ring  had  slipped  on  her 
white  ankle  was  a  red  mark. 

All  the  colour  went  from   Deliverance's 


176          Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

face  as  she  looked  up  and  perceived  her 
visitor.  Before  his  stern  gaze  she 
trembled,  and  her  head  drooped,  and  she 
ceased  her  knitting.  The  ball  of  yarn 
rolled  out  from  her  lap  over  to  the  young 
minister's  feet. 

She  waited  for  him  to  speak.  The 
moments  passed  and  still  he  did  not 
speak,  and  the  torture  of  his  silence  grew 
so  great  that  at  last  she  lifted  her  head 
and  met  his  glance,  and  out  of  her  pain 
she  was  enabled  to  speak.  "  What  would 
ye  have  with  me,  good  sir  ?  " 

"  I  have  come  to  pray  with  you,  and 
to  exhort  you  to  confession,"  he  answered. 

"  Nay,  good  sir,"  protested  Deliverance, 
"  I  be  no  witch." 

The  old  jailer  entered  with  a  stool  for 
Mr.  Mather,  and  having  set  it  down, 
went  out  and  left  the  two  together. 

Ere  either  could  speak,  there  was  a 
rapping  at  the  door. 

In  answer  to  the  young  minister's  sum 
mons  to  enter,  Sir  Jonathan  Jamieson 
came  in. 

Deliverance    glanced    dully  at  him,  all 


Cotton   Mather  visits   Deliverance      177 

uncaring ;  for  she  felt  he  had  harmed  her 
all  he  could,  and  now  might  nevermore 
injure  her. 

The  young  minister,  having  much  re 
spect  for  Sir  Jonathan,  rose  and  begged 
that  he  be  seated.  But  Sir  Jonathan, 
minded  to  be  equally  polite,  refused  to 
deprive  Mr.  Mather  of  the  stool.  So 
they  might  have  argued  and  bowed  for 
long,  had  not  the  jailer  appeared  with 
another  stool. 

"  I  did  but  see  you  enter  now,  as  I 
chanced  to  come  out  of  the  tavern  near 
by,"  remarked  Sir  Jonathan,  seating  him 
self  comfortably,  leaning  back  against  the 
wall,  "and,  being  minded  to  write  a  book 
upon  the  evil  ways  of  witchery,  I  followed 
you  in,  knowing  you  came  to  exhort  the 
prisoner  to  repentance.  So  I  beg  that  you 
will  grant  me  the  privilege  to  listen  in  case 
she  should  confess,  that  I  may  thereby 
obtain  some  valuable  notes."  As  he 
spoke  he  shot  a  quick  glance  at  Deliver 
ance. 

She  could  not  divine  that  menacing 
look.  Was  he  fearful  lest  she  should  con- 


178          Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

fess,  or  did  he  indeed  seek  to  have  her 
do  so  ? 

Cotton  Mather  turned,  his  face  rilled 
with  passionate  and  honest  fervour,  to 
ward  the  speaker. 

"  Most  gladly,"  he  answered  with  hearty 
sympathy  ;  "  it  is  a  noble  and  useful  call 
ing.  I  oft  find  more  company  with  the 
dead  in  their  books  than  in  the  society  of 
the  living,  and  it  has  ever  been  one  of  my 
chief  thanksgivings  that  the  Lord  blessed 
me  with  a  ready  pen.  But  more  of  this 
later.  Let  us  now  kneel  in  prayer." 

They  both  knelt. 

But  Deliverance  remained  seated. 

"  Wicked  and  obstinate  o'  heart  I  be," 
she  said,  "  but  Sir  Jonathan  holds  me 
from  prayer.  I  cannot  kneel  in  company 
with  him." 

She  no  longer  felt  any  fear  to  speak  her 
mind. 

At  her  words  Cotton  Mather  glanced  at 
Sir  Jonathan  and  saw  the  man's  face  go 
red.  His  suspicions  were  aroused  thereat, 
and  he  forgot  all  his  respect  for  Sir  Jona 
than's  great  position  and  mickle  gold,  and 


Cotton   Mather  visits   Deliverance      179 

spoke  sternly,  as  became  a  minister,  recog 
nizing  in  his  profession  neither  high  nor 
low. 

"  Do  you  indeed  exercise  a  mischievous 
spell  to  hold  this  witch-maid  from  prayer 
when  she  would  seem  softened  toward 
godliness  ?  " 

"  Nay,"  retorted  Sir  Jonathan,  "'tis  the 
malice  of  her  evil,  invisible  spectre  whis 
pering  at  her  ear  to  cast  a  reflection  on 
me." 

"  I  prithee  go,  however,  and  stand  in 
the  corridor  outside,  and  we  will  see  if  the 
witch-maid,  relieved  of  your  presence,  will 
pray,"  advised  Cotton  Mather. 

Sir  Jonathan  was  secretly  angered  at 
this  command,  yet  he  rose  with  what  fair 
show  of  grace  he  could  muster,  and  went 
out  into  the  corridor.  But  an  inde 
finable  fear  had  sprung  to  life  in  his 
heart.  For,  lo,  but  a  look,  a  word,  an 
accusation,  and  one  was  put  upon  as  a 
witch. 

Deliverance,  although  she  feared  the 
young  minister,  yet  knew  him  to  be  not 
only  a  great  but  a  good  man,  and 


i8o         Ye   Lyttle  Salem  Maide 

desirous  for  her  soul's  good.  Thus  will 
ingly  she  knelt  opposite  him. 

Long  and  fervently  he  prayed.  Mean 
while,  Sir  Jonathan  sauntered  up  and 
down  the  corridor,  swinging  his  black 
thorn  stick  lightly,  humming  his  Old 
World  tune. 

Every  time  he  passed  the  open  door,  he 
cast  a  terrible  glance  at  Deliverance  over 
the  minister's  kneeling  figure,  so  that  she 
shuddered,  feeling  she  was  indeed  besieged 
by  the  powers  of  darkness  on  one  hand, 
and  an  angel  of  light  on  the  other. 

Cotton  Mather  could  not  see  those 
terrible  glances,  but  even  as  he  prayed,  he 
was  conscious  of  Sir  Jonathan's  uncon 
cerned  humming  and  light  step.  This 
implied  some  disrespect,  so  that  it  was 
with  displeasure  he  called  upon  him  to 
return. 

"  I  cannot  understand,  Sir  Jonathan," 
he  remarked,  rising  and  resuming  his  seat, 
"  how  it  is  that  you  who  are  so  godly  a 
man,  should  exercise  a  spell  to  hold  this 
witch-maid  from  prayer." 

Sir  Jonathan   shrugged    his    shoulders. 


Cotton   Mather  visits   Deliverance      181 

"  She  has  a  spectre  which  would  do  me 
evil.  'Tis  a  plot  of  the  Devil's  to  put 
reproach  on  me,  in  that  I  have  refused  to 
do  his  bidding."  An  expression  of  low 
cunning  came  into  his  glance.  "  Have 
not  you  had  similar  experience,  Mr. 
Mather  ?  Methinks  I  have  heard  that 
the  tormentors  of  an  afflicted  young 
woman  did  cause  your  very  image  to 
appear  before  her." 

"Yea,"  rejoined  Mr.  Mather  with  some 
heat,  "  the  fiends  did  make  themselves 
masters  of  her  tongue,  so  in  her  fits  she 
did  complain  I  put  upon  her  preternatu 
ral  torments.  Yet  her  only  outcries  when 
she  recovered  her  senses  were  for  my  poor 
prayers.  At  last  my  exhortations  did 
prevail,  and  she,  as  well  as  my  good 
name,  was  delivered  from  the  malice  of 
Satan." 

Sir  Jonathan  stooped  to  flick  some  dust 
off  his  buckled  shoe  with  his  kerchief. 
"  One  knows  not  on  whom  the  accusation 
of  witchery  may  fasten.  Even  the  most 
godly  be  not  spared  some  slander."  Now 
when  he  stooped,  Deliverance  thought  she 


1 82          Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

had  seen  a  smile  flicker  over  his  face,  but 
when  he  lifted  his  head,  his  expression  was 
deeply  grave.  He  met  the  young  minis 
ter's  suspicious  and  uncomfortable  glance 
serenely.  "What  most  convinces  me," 
he  continued  easily,  "  of  the  prisoner's 
guilt,  e'en  more  than  the  affliction  she  put 
upon  me,  is  the  old  yeoman's  testimony 
that  he  saw  her  conversing  in  the  woods 
with  Satan.  Could  we  but  get  to  the 
root  of  that  matter,  perchance  the  whole 
secret  may  be  revealed.  But  I  would 
humbly  suggest  she  tell  it  in  my  ear, 
alone,  lest  the  tale  prove  of  too  terrible 
and  scandalous  a  nature  to  reach  thy 
pious  ear.  Then  I  would  repeat  it  to 
you  with  becoming  delicacy." 

"  Nay,"  answered  Cotton  Mather,  "  a 
delicate  stomach  deters  me  not  from  in 
vesting  aught  that  may  result  to  the 
better  establishment  of  the  Lord  in  this 
district." 

Deliverance  began  to  feel  that  her  secret 
would  be  torn  from  her  against  her  will. 
Alas,  what  means  of  self-defence  remained 
to  her !  Her  fingers  closed  convulsively 


Cotton   Mather  visits   Deliverance      183 

upon  the  unfinished  stocking  in  her  lap. 
The  feminine  instinct  to  seek  relief  from 
painful  thought  by  some  simple  occupa 
tion  of  sewing  or  knitting,  awakened  in 
her.  She  resolved  to  continue  her  knit 
ting,  counting  each  stitch  to  herself,  never 
permitting  her  attention  to  swerve  from 
the  task,  no  matter  what  words  were  ad 
dressed  to  her. 

So  in  her  great  simplicity,  and  innocent 
of  all  worldly  conventionalities,  she  sought 
security  in  her  knitting. 

This  action  was  so  unprecedented,  it 
suggested  such  quiet  domesticity  and  the 
means  by  which  good  women  righteously 
busied  themselves,  that  both  priest  and 
layman  were  disconcerted,  and  knew  not 
what  to  do. 

Suddenly  Sir  Jonathan  laughed  harshly. 
"  The  witch  has  a  spice  of  her  Master's 
obstinacy,"  he  cried.  "  Methinks  'twere 
right  good  wisdom,  since  your  prayers 
and  exhortations  avail  not  with  her,  to 
try  less  gentle  means  and  use  threats," 
his  crafty  mind  catching  at  the  fact  that 
whatever  strange,  but,  he  feared  to  him, 


184         Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

familiar  tale,  the  little  maid  might  tell, 
it  could  be  misconstrued  as  the  malice 
of  one  who  had  given  herself  over  to 
Satan. 

"  Perchance  'twould  be  as  well,"  as 
sented  Cotton  Mather,  greatly  perplexed. 

Sir  Jonathan  shook  his  forefinger  at 
Deliverance.  "  Listen,  mistress,"  said  he, 
and  sought  to  fix  her  with  his  menacing 
eye. 

Deliverance,  counting  her  stitches, 
heeded  him  not. 

How  pale  her  little  face  !  How  quick 
the  glancing  needles  flashed  !  And  ever 
back  of  her  counting  ran  an  undercurrent 
of  thought,  the  words  of  her  dream,  —  A 
little  life  sweetly  lived. 

"  This  would  I  threaten  you,"  spoke 
Sir  Jonathan.  "  You  have  heard  how  old 
Giles  Corey  is  to  be  put  to  death  ?  " 

The  knitting-needles  trembled  in  the 
small  hands.  Now  she  dropped  a  stitch, 
and  now  another  stitch. 

"  And  because  he  will  say  neither  that 
he  is  guilty,  nor  yet  that  he  is  not  guilty, 
it  is  rumoured  that  he  is  to  be  pressed  to 


Cotton   Mather  visits  Deliverance      185 

death  beneath  stones,"  continued  Sir 
Jonathan. 

A  sigh  of  horror  followed  his  words. 
The  involuntary  sound  came  from  Cotton 
Mather,  whose  imaginative,  highly-strung 
organism  responded  to  the  least  touch. 
His  eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  little  maid. 
He  saw  the  small  hands  shaking  so  that 
they  could  not  guide  the  needles.  How 
small  those  hands,  how  stamped  with  the 
innocent  seeming  of  childhood  !  Oh,  that 
the  Devil  should  take  upon  himself  such 
a  disguise  ! 

"And  so,  if  you  do  not  confess,"  spoke 
Sir  Jonathan's  cold,  menacing  voice,  "  you 
shall  not  be  accorded  even  the  mercy  of 
being  hanged,  but  tied  hands  and  feet, 
and  laid  upon  the  ground.  And  the 
villagers  shall  come  and  heap  stones  on 
you,  and  I,  whom  you  have  afflicted,  shall 
count  them  as  they  fall.  I  shall  watch 
the  first  stone  strike  you  — ' 

A  loud  cry  from  the  tortured  child  in 
terrupted  him.  She  sprang  to  her  feet 
with  arms  outstretched.  "  And  when 
that  first  stone  strikes  me,"  she  cried, 


1 86          Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

"God  will  take  me  to  Himself!  Ye  can 
count  the  stones  the  others  throw  upon 
me,  but  I  shall  never  ken  how  fast  they 
fall !  " 

Cotton  Mather  was  moved  to  compas 
sion.  "  Let  us  use  all  zeal  to  do  away 
with  these  evil  sorcerers  and  their  fascina 
tions,  good  Sir  Jonathan,  but  yet  let  us 
deal  in  mercy  as  far  as  compatible  with 
justice,  lest  to  do  any  living  thing  torture 
be  a  reflection  on  our  manhood."  With 
gentleness  he  then  addressed  himself  to 
Deliverance,  who  had  sunk  upon  her 
pallet  and  covered  her  face  with  her  hands. 
"  Explain  to  us  why  the  woman  of  Ipswich, 
that  was  hanged,  did  seek  that  you  be 
saved." 

Deliverance  made  no  reply.  Nor  could 
he  prevail  upon  her  in  any  way  ;  so,  after 
a  weary  while  spent  in  prayers  and  ex 
hortations,  he  and  Sir  Jonathan  rose  and 
went  away.  At  the  threshold  Cotton 
Mather  glanced  back  over  his  shoulder 

D 

at  the  weeping  little  maid. 

"  This  affair  savours  ill,"  he  remarked, 
laying  his  hand  heavily  on  his  companion's 


Cotton   Mather  visits   Deliverance      187 

shoulder  as  the  two  went  down  the  corri 
dor  ;  "  my  heart  turned  within  me,  and 
strange  feelings  waked  at  her  cry." 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon.  It  would 
not  be  possible  for  the  young  minister  to 
reach  Boston  Town  until  after  midnight, 
so  he  decided  to  postpone  his  journey 
until  the  next  day.  Moreover,  he  rather 
seized  at  an  excuse  to  remain  for  the  mor 
row's  court,  having  great  relish  in  these 
witch-trials. 

But  that  night  Cotton  Mather  had  a 
strange  vision. 


Chapter    XIII 
In  the  Green  Forest 

SELDOM  has  a  little  girl  undertaken 
entirely  alone  a  more  perilous  journey 
than  Abigail  had  started  upon.  Salem 
was  not  more  than  fourteen  miles  from 
Boston  Town,  but  the  trip  invariably 
occupied  a  day,  owing  to  the  many  patches 
of  spongy  ground,  quicksands,  and  streams 
which  intersected  the  way.  Travellers 
were  often  aided  by  fallen  trees  and  nat 
ural  fordways  of  stone.  Abigail  was  con 
fident  of  her  way,  having  made  the  trip 
with  her  father.  She  soon  discovered  the 
original  Indian  path  which  was  acquiring 
some  semblance  to  a  public  highway. 
Trees  had  been  notched,  and  now  and 
then  the  government  had  nailed  notices, 
signifying  the  remaining  distance  to  the 
metropolis  of  New  England.  Far  more 
serious  dangers  than  losing  her  way 

188 


In  the  Green   Forest  189 

threatened  Abigail.  In  the  wild  woods 
lurked  savages  and  wolves,  and  the  wily 
Frenchman  with  unbounded  influence 
over  the  cruel  Indian. 

When  the  sun  was  high  in  the  heavens, 
Abigail  ate  her  luncheon.  To  go  with 
what  she  had  brought  she  found  some 
strawberries,  the  last  of  the  season,  as  if 
they  had  lingered  to  give  this  little  guest 
of  the  forest  a  rare  treat,  daily  acquiring  a 
richer  crimson,  a  finer  flavour. 

Abigail  was  obliged  to  follow  a  little 
stream  some  distance  before  she  found  an 
available  spot  to  lie  down  and  drink.  It 
was  here  she  missed  her  way.  Confident 
that  she  could  at  will  regain  the  main  path, 
she  walked  on  along  a  ferny  lane. 

Nightfall  found  her  in  the  heart  of  the 
forest,  unwitting  which  way  to  turn. 
Darkness  seemed  to  rise  from  the  earth, 
enveloping  all,  rising,  rising,  until  only 
the  tops  of  the  trees  were  still  brightly 
green.  Such  a  sense  of  desolation  and 
loneliness  came  over  her  that  a  sob  welled 
up  in  her  throat.  The  forest  encircled 
her,  dark,  impenetrable.  She  walked  on 


190         Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

some  distance,  and  at  last  caught  a  glimpse 
of  the  white  sea-sands.  It  looked  lighter 
on  the  water,  the  waves  yet  imprisoning 
the  sunlight.  Her  anxious  gaze  was 
attracted  by  a  faint  column  of  blue  smoke 
rising  beyond  five  tall  pine  trees.  So 
very  thin  was  it  that  it  was  indeed  sur 
prising  she  had  observed  it.  She  started 
forward  gladly,  but  even  as  she  made  her 
first  eager  steps  she  drew  back  with  a  low 
cry  of  fear.  How  did  she  know  but  that 
the  fire  was  kindled  by  Indians  or  French 
men?  Shivering  with  fear,  she  ran  back 
to  the  forest. 

"  God  save  my  soul,"  she  murmured, 
stopping  to  catch  her  breath,  "  here  be  a 
pretty  to-do.  Yet  perchance  it  might 
prove  to  be  woodmen  or  hunters  cooking 
their  supper,  or  a  party  of  travellers,  be 
lated  like  myself.  I  doubt  not  'twould 
be  wisdom  for  me  to  go  tippy-toe  and 
peek  at  them." 

She  stole  back  near  the  trees  and 
crouched  behind  a  clump  of  hazel-bushes. 
It  was  some  time  before  she  summoned 
sufficient  courage  to  part  the  leaves  and 


In  the  Green   Forest  191 

look  through.  And  her  teeth  chattered 
like  little  castanets.  Softly  her  two 
trembling  hands  parted  the  foliage,  and 
her  brown  eyes  stared  out. 

There  just  beyond  the  five  pines  was 
a  little  thatched  cottage,  very  humble,  but 
all  so  neat  and  clean.  The  roof  was 
covered  with  moss  which,  even  in  the 
twilight,  gleamed  like  green  velvet.  Up 
one  side  and  over  the  corner,  trailed  the 
dog-rose  with  its  blush-tinted  blossoms, 
while  on  both  sides  of  the  pathway  flour 
ished  the  wild  lilies  and  forest  ferns.  In 
the  doorway  stood  a  spinning-wheel,  a 
stool  beside  it. 

Abigail  wrinkled  her  nose  and  sniffed. 
"  Happen  like  I  smell  potatoes  frying  in 
the  fat  o'  good  bacon." 

She  walked  boldly  to  the  threshold  and 
looked  in. 

An  old  woman,  her  back  turned  to  the 
door,  held  a  smoking  skillet  over  the  red 
coals  on  the  hearth. 

Abigail's  heart  leapt  in  her  throat. 
Frenchmen  and  Indians  --  what  were 
they  ?  This  old  woman  might  be  a  witch. 


192          Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

Quickly  she  doubled  her  thumbs  in 
her  palms,  and  hastened  to  be  first  to  ad 
dress  the  old  woman  with  pleasant  words, 
—  these  being  precautions  advisable  to 
take  in  dealing  with  witches. 

"  The  cream  o'  the  even  to  ye,  goody," 
she  said,  "  and  I  trust  ye  will  have  appe 
tite  for  your  potatoes  and  fat  bacon,  for 
my  mother  has  taught  me  unless  ye  have 
relish  for  your  food  from  honest  toil, 
'twill  not  nourish  ye." 

The  old  woman  turned.  "  Ay,"  she 
answered  in  a  cracked  voice,  "  honest  toil, 
honest  toil,  but  I  be  old  for  toil.  Who 
might  ye  be  that  comes  so  late  o'  day  ? " 

As  she  came  forward,  something  seemed 
to  clutch  at  the  little  maid's  throat,  and 
she  could  scarcely  breathe. 

For  a  single  yellow  tooth  projected  on 
the  old  woman's  lower  lip,  and  she  had  a 
tuft  of  hair  like  a  beard  on  her  chin, — 
unmistakable  signs  of  witchery. 

Yet  Abigail  was  troubled  by  misgiving, 
for  faded  and  sunken  as  the  old  woman's 
eyes  were,  they  were  still  blue  as  if  they 
had  once  been  beautiful,  and  they  had 


In  the  Green  Forest  193 

a  kindly  light  on  beholding  the  little 
maid. 

"  Beshrew  me,  it  be  a  maid,"  she  cried ; 
"  ye  have  a  fair  face,  sweeting.  How 
come  ye  here  alone  at  the  twilight  hour  ?  " 

"  I  come  from  Salem,  and  I  be  bound 
for  Boston  Town,"  answered  Abigail,  tim 
idly. 

"  It  be  good  to  see  a  bonny  face,"  re 
plied  the  old  woman  ;  "  take  the  bucket 
and  fetch  fresh  water  from  the  spring 
back  o'  the  five  pines.  Ay,  but  it  be 
good  to  see  a  human  face,  to  hear  a  young 
voice,  and  the  sound  o'  young  feet.  Haste, 
little  one,  whilst  I  cook  another  flapjack, 
which  ye  shall  have  wi'  a  pouring  o' 
molasses." 

Abigail  proceeded  to  the  spring,  joyful 
at  the  avenue  of  escape  open  to  her.  She 
planned  to  fill  the  bucket,  leave  it  by  the 
spring,  and  run  away.  But  as  she  lifted 
the  bucket  to  the  stone  ledge,  the  effort 
took  all  her  strength.  She  could  not 
help  but  think  how  like  a  dead  weight  it 
would  seem  to  the  old  woman,  with  her 
bent  back,  when,  finding  that  her  guest 


194         Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

did  not  return,  she  would  hobble  down 
to  the  spring.  Strangely  enough,  the  old 
woman  seemed  to  her  like  a  witch  one 
moment,  and  the  next  reminded  her  of 
her  own  dear  old  Granny  Brewster.  So 
with  a  prayer  in  her  heart,  she  carried 
the  bucket  up  and  set  it  down  on  the 
stoop,  just  without  the  threshold.  There, 
as  she  had  first  seen  her,  stood  the  old 
woman  cooking  a  flapjack,  with  her  back 
turned  to  the  door. 

"  It  smells  uncommon  relishing  for  a 
witch-cake,"  murmured  Abigail,  remem 
bering  with  distaste  the  corn-bread  in  her 
pocket.  She  pictured  to  herself  the  old 
woman's  disappointment,  when  she  should 
find  her  guest  stolen  away.  Although 
possessed  by  fear,  pity  stirred  within  her 
breast,  and,  moved  by  a  generous  impulse, 
she  put  her  hand  in  the  front  of  her  dress 
and  drew  forth  a  precious,  rose-red  ribbon 
with  which  she  had  intended  to  adorn  her 
self  when  she  reached  Boston  Town,  and 
laid  it  on  the  threshold,  near  the  bucket. 
Then,  with  an  uncontrollable  sob  at  this 
sacrifice,  she  ran  swiftly  away. 


In  the  Green   Forest  195 

She  heard  the  old  woman  calling  after 
her  to  stop.  Not  daring  to  turn  around, 
and  ceasing  to  run,  lest  doing  so  should 
betray  her  fear,  she  doubled  her  thumbs 
in  her  palms  and  began  to  sing  a  psalm. 
Loudly  and  clearly  she  sang,  the  while 
she  felt  the  hair  rising  on  her  head,  fear 
ing  that  she  heard  the  old  woman  coming 
up  behind  her.  Desperately  she  looked 
back.  Still,  very  faintly  in  the  deepening 
dusk,  could  she  see  the  little  old  woman 
standing  in  the  doorway,  while  from  her 
hands  fluttered  the  rose-red  ribbon.  And 
as  the  voice  of  an  angel  singing  in  the 
wilderness,  Abigail's  singing  floated  back 
to  her  dull  ears. 

"  He  gently-leads  mee,  quiet- waters  bye 

He  dooth  retain  my  soule  for  His  name's  sake 
inn  paths  of  justice  leads-mee-quietly. 
Yea,  though  I  walkc  inn  dale  of  deadly-shade 
lie  feare  none  yll,  for  with  mee  Thou  wilt  bee 
Thy  rod,  thy  staff,  eke  they  shall  comfort  mee." 

Abigail  walked  rapidly,  glad  to  leave 
the  little  hut  and  its  lonely  inmate  far 
behind. 


196          Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

The  night  was  upon  her.  Where  could 
she  seek  safety  ?  Her  anxiety  increased 
as  the  shadows  deepened. 

Alarmed,  she  looked  around  her  for 
the  safest  place  in  which  to  pass  the 
night.  At  first  she  thought  of  sleeping 
near  the  sea,  on  the  warm  sands.  But 
she  could  not  find  her  way  out  of  the 
woods.  Suddenly,  on  the  edge  of  a  marsh, 
she  spied  a  deserted  Indian  wigwam. 
Near  by  were  the  ashes  of  recent  fires, 
and  a  hole  in  the  ground  revealed  that 
the  store  of  corn  once  buried  there  had 
been  dug  up  and  used.  Into  this  wigwam 
she  crept  for  protection.  Terrified,  she 
watched  the  night  descend  on  the  marsh, 
which,  had  she  but  known  it,  was  a  refuge 
for  all  gentle  and  harmless  animals  and 
birds.  Fallen  trees  were  covered  with 
moss,  the  lovely  maiden-hair  fern,  lichens, 
and  gorgeous  fungi.  The  purple  flag, 
and  the  wild  crab,  and  plum  trees  grew 
here,  as  well  as  the  slender  red  osiers,  out 
of  which  the  Indian  women  made  baskets. 
Ere  twilight  had  entirely  vanished,  Abi 
gail  saw  brilliantly  plumaged  birds  flying 


In  the  Green   Forest  197 

back  to  the  marsh  for  the  night.  A  fox 
darted  into  the  dusk  past  the  wigwam. 
To  her,  nothing  in  all  this  was  beautiful. 
Crouched  in  the  wigwam,  she  saw  through 
the  opening  white  birches,  like  ghosts 
beckoning  her.  A  wild  yellow  canary,  with 
a  circling  motion,  dropped  into  its  nest. 
Abigail  shuddered  and  breathed  a  prayer 
against  witchery.  Will-o'-the-wisps  flashed 
and  vanished  like  breaths  of  flame,  and 
she  thought  they  were  the  lanterns  of 
witches  out  searching  for  human  souls. 

As  night  now  settled  in  good  earnest, 
a  stouter  heart  than  this  little  Puritan 
maiden's  would  have  quailed.  The  ter 
rible  howling  of  wolves  arose,  mingling 
with  the  mournful  tu-whit-tu-whoo  of  the 
owls  and  the  croaking  of  the  bull-frogs. 
She  was  in  constant  dread  lest  she  might 
be  spied  upon  by  Indians,  who,  according 
to  the  Puritan  teachings,  were  the  last  of 
a  lost  race,  brought  to  America  by  Satan, 
that  he  might  rule  them  in  the  wilderness, 
undisturbed  by  any  Christian  endeavours 
to  convert  them. 

On   the   opposite   edge    of  the   marsh, 


198          Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

a  tall  hemlock  pointed  to  a  star  suspended 
like  a  jewel  just  above  it. 

When,  in  after  years,  Abigail  became 
a  dear  little  old  lady,  she  used  to  tell  her 
grandchildren  of  the  strange  fancy  that 
came  into  her  mind  as  she  watched  that  star. 
For,  as  she  said,  it  was  so  soft  and  yellow, 
and  yet  withal  so  bright,  that  it  seemed 
to  be  saying  as  it  looked  down  at  her :  — 

"  Here  we  are,  you  and  I,  all  alone  in 
these  wild  woods  ;  but  take  courage.  Are 
we  not  together?" 

A  sweet  sense  of  companionship  with 
the  star  stole  over  her,  and  she  was  no 
longer  lonely.  She  found  herself  smiling 
back  at  this  comrade,  so  bright  and  merry 
and  courageous.  Thus  smiling,  she  passed 
into  the  deep  slumber,  just  recompense  of  a 
good  heart  and  honest  fatigue. 

When  she  awoke,  the  sun  was  shining. 
Hastily  she  drew  off  her  shoes  and  stock 
ings,  which  she  had  worn  during  the  night 
for  warmth.  Then  as  her  eyes,  still  heavy 
with  sleep,  comprehended  the  beauty  of 
the  marsh,  she  was  filled  with  delight. 

The  sun  sent  shafts  of  golden  light  into 


In  the  Green   Forest  199 

the  cool  shade.  All  the  willows  and  slen 
der  fruit  trees  glistened  with  morning  dew. 
The  pools  of  water  and  the  green  rushes 
rippled  in  the  morning  breeze.  The 
transparent  wings  of  the  dragon-fly  flashed 
in  the  blue  air.  All  the  birds  twittered 
and  sang.  Beyond,  the  solemn  pines 
guarded  the  secret  beauties  of  the  marsh. 
Thus  that  which  had  filled  her  with  terror  in 
the  darkness,  now  gave  her  joy  in  the  light. 

By  the  height  of  the  sun  she  judged  she 
must  have  slept  late  and  that  she  must 
make  all  haste  to  reach  Boston  Town  in 
time.  It  was  not  long  before  she  struck 
the  main  path  again. 

Great  was  her  astonishment  and  delight 
to  learn  by  a  sign-board,  nailed  to  a  tall 
butternut  tree,  that  she  was  within  little 
over  an  hour's  walk  from  Boston  Town. 

This  sign,  printed  in  black  letters  on  a 
white  board,  read  as  follows  :  — 

Ye  path  noo  Lcadeth 

to  ye  flowing  River  & 

heyonde  wich  ye  Toone  of  Boston 

Lyeth.      bye  ye  distance  of  2  mis 

uppe  ye  Pleasant  Hill. 


200         Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

And  below  was  written  in  a  flowing 
hand: — 

"  Oh,  stranger,  ye  wich  are  Aboute 
Arriv'd  safe  at  ye  End  of  ye  dayes  journey 
the  wich  is  symbolical  of  ye  Soule's  Pil 
grimage  onn  earth,  Kneel  ye  doone  onn 
yur  Marrow  Bones  &  Pray  for  ye  Vile 
Sinner  wich  has  miss'd  ye  Strait  & 
Narrow  path  &  peetifully  Chosen  ye 
Broad  &  Flowery  Waye  wich  leadeth 
to  Destruction  &  ye  Jaws  of  Death." 

Abigail  read  the  sign  over  hastily  and 
passed  on.  "  I  will  get  down  on  my 
marrow-bones  when  I  come  back,"  she 
murmured ;  "I  be  in  mickle  haste  for 
loitering." 

Soon  she  neared  the  river  beyond 
which  stretched  the  pleasant  hill.  She 
heard  a  voice  singing  a  hymn  a  far 
distance  behind  her.  She  turned  and 
waited  until  the  singer  should  have 
turned  the  curve  of  the  road.  The 
singing  grew  louder  and  then  died  away. 
A  little  later  Mr.  Cotton  Mather,  mounted 
on  his  white  horse,  came  in  sight.  It 
seemed  to  her  that  far  as  he  was  from 


In  the  Green   Forest  201 

her,  their  glances  met  and  then  he  turned 
and  looked  behind  him. 

That  moment  was  her  salvation. 
Quickly  she  ran  and  hid  behind  the 
trunk  of  a  great  tree.  Cotton  Mather 
came  slowly  on.  His  horse  was  well 
nigh  spent  with  fatigue.  She  saw  him 
distinctly,  his  face  white  from  exhaustion, 
his  eyes  sombre  from  a  sleepless  night. 
His  black  velvet  small-clothes  were 
spattered  with  mud.  He  reined  in  his 
horse  so  near  her  that  she  might  almost 
have  touched  him. 

He  removed  his  hat  to  greet  the  cool 
river  breeze.  His  countenance  at  this 
time  of  his  young  manhood  held  an 
irresistible  ardour.  Some  heritage  had 
bestowed  upon  him  a  distinction  and 
grace,  even  a  worldliness  of  mien,  which, 
where  he  was  unknown,  would  have 
permitted  him  to  pass  for  a  courtier 
rather  than  a  priest.  At  this  moment 
no  least  suggestion  of  anything  gross 
or  material  showed  in  his  face,  which 
was  so  nearly  unearthly  in  its  exaltation 
that  the  little  maid  watching  him  was 


2O2          Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

awed  thereat  and  sank  to  her  knees. 
His  very  presence  seemed  to  inspire 
prayer. 

A  moment  he  looked  searchingly 
around  him,  then  spurred  his  horse  to 
take  the  ford.  She  saw  the  bright  water 
break  around  his  horse's  feet,  the  early 
sunshine  falling  aslant  his  handsome  fig 
ure.  She  watched  until  he  reached  the 
further  bank  and  disappeared  behind  a 
gentle  hill.  Then  she  came  out  from  her 
hiding. 

When  in  after  years  she  beheld  him,  — 
his  public  life  a  tragedy  by  reason  of  his 
part  in  the  witchcraft  trouble  and  his  jeal 
ous  strivings  to  maintain  the  infallibility 
of  the  Protestant  priesthood,  —  saw  him 
mocked  and  ridiculed  and  slaves  named 
after  him,  a  vision  would  rise  before  her. 
She  would  see  again  that  magnificent 
young  figure  on  the  white  horse,  the  radi 
ant  air  softly  defining  it  amidst  the  green 
ness  of  the  forest,  herself  a  part  of  the 
picture,  a  little  child  kneeling  hidden 
behind  a  tree  in  the  early  morning. 

The  fordway  was  so  swollen  that  Abi- 


In  the  Green   Forest  203 

gail  did  not  dare  attempt  to  cross  on  foot. 
And  although  further  down  where  the 
river  narrowed  and  deepened  there  was 
a  ferryman,  she  had  not  the  money  with 
which  to  pay  toll.  Thinking,  however, 
that  it  would  not  be  long  before  some 
farm  people  would  be  going  into  town 
with  their  produce,  she  sat  down  on  the 
shore  and  dabbled  her  feet  in  the  cold 
water  to  help  pass  away  the  time.  At 
last  when  the  first  hour  had  passed,  and 
she  was  waxing  impatient,  there  appeared, 
ambling  contentedly  down  the  green  shad 
owed  road,  a  countryman  on  his  fat  nag, 
his  saddle-bags  filled  with  vegetables  and 
fruit  for  market. 

Abigail  rose.  "  Goodman,"  said  she, 
"  would  ye  be  so  kind  as  to  take  me 
across  the  river  ?  I  be  in  an  immoderate 
haste." 

"  To  be  sure,"  said  the  countryman ; 
"  set  your  foot  on  my  boot ;  let  me  have 
your  shoes  and  stockings.  Give  me  your 
hands.  Now,  jump ;  up  we  go,  that's 
right.  Ye  be  an  uncommon  vigorous 
lassie." 


204         Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

The  horse  splashed  into  the  water,  which 
rose  so  high  that  Abigail's  bare  feet  and 
ankles  and  the  farmer's  boots  were  wet. 
The  little  maid  put  her  arms  as  far  as  she 
could  reach  around  her  companion's  broad 
waist,  and  clung  tightly  to  him,  her  little 
teeth  firmly  set  to  keep  from  screaming 
as  the  horse  rolled  and  slipped  on  the 
stones  in  the  river  bed. 

When  they  reached  the  other  side,  Ab 
igail,  desperately  shy,  insisted  upon  her 
companion  permitting  her  to  dismount, 
although  he  offered  to  carry  her  all  the 
way  into  town. 

"  Ye  be  sure  ye  can  find  your  home, 
child  ?  "  he  asked,  loath  to  leave  her. 

Abigail  nodded  and  sat  down  on  the 
ground  to  pull  on  her  shoes  and  stock 
ings,  while  the  countryman  after  a  mo 
ment's  further  hesitation  made  his  way 
leisurely  up  the  grassy  hill. 

After  a  brisk  walk,  Abigail  arrived  at 
Boston  Common,  a  large  field  in  which 
cows  were  pastured  during  the  daytime, 
and  where,  in  the  evening,  the  Governor 
and  his  Lady  and  the  gallants  and  their 


In  the  Green   Forest  205 

"  Marmalet  Madams "  strolled  until  the 
nine  o'clock  bell  rang  them  home  and 
the  constables  began  their  nightly  rounds. 
The  trees  that  once  covered  the  Common 
had  been  cut  down  for  firewood,  but  there 
were  many  thickets  and  grassy  knolls. 
On  one  side  the  ground  sloped  to  the 
sea  where  the  cattle  wandered  through 
the  salt  marsh  grasses.  And  there  was 
to  be  heard  always  the  sweet  incessant 
jangle  of  their  bells.  At  this  hour  of  the 
morning  there  was  generally  to  be  seen 
no  person  except  the  herdsman,  but  as 
Abigail  approached  a  stately  elm  which 
stood  alone  in  the  field,  she  saw  a  student 
lying  on  the  grass,  reading. 


Chapter  XIV 
A  Fellow  of  Harvard 

HIS  book  lay  open  between  his  elbows, 
and  his  chin  was  propped  on  his 
hands.  His  cap  lay  on  the  grass  near  by. 

Abigail's  shyness  tempted  her  to  hurry 
by  him  without  attracting  attention,  but 
when  she  remembered  that  he  might  know 
something  of  the  fine  gentleman  she  was 
seeking,  she  paused  bravely. 

"  It  will  be  a  fair  day,  sir,"  she  said  in 
a  quavering  voice. 

The  young  man  rolled  over  on  his 
elbow.  He  wore  no  wig,  and  his  lank 
dark  hair,  parted  in  the  centre,  fell  on 
either  side  of  his  long,  colourless  face. 
His  eyes  were  sharp  and  bright. 

"  On  what  authority  dare  you  make  so 

rash  a  statement  ?  "  inquired  he,  sternly. 

"  Take   heed   how   you   say  such   things, 

lest  it  rain  and  thunder  and  the  wind  blow, 

206 


A  Fellow  of  Harvard  207 

and  a  hurricane  come  upon  us  this  after 
noon,  and  you  be  prosecuted  for  telling  a 
falsehood." 

Abigail  failed  to  perceive  he  was  but 
jesting,  and  this,  as  well  as  timidity  and 
anxiety,  so  wrought  upon  her,  that  with 
out  further  ado  she  began  to  cry. 

At  this  the  student  jumped  up,  deeply 
repentant,  and  entreated  her  to  rest  in  the 
shade  of  the  old  elm  tree  by  him.  He 
gave  her  his  kerchief  to  dry  her  eyes,  and 
offered  an  apple  from  his  pocket. 

"  There,  there,"  he  said,  "  'twas  but  an 
idle  jest.  I  am  a  bit  of  a  merry-andrew 
in  my  way,  but  a  harmless  fellow,  without 
a  grain  of  malice  in  me.  Sure  the  sun 
will  shine  all  day  when  the  morn  is  fair 
like  this.  Look  up,  my  pretty  lass.  See, 
it  still  shines." 

Abigail  obediently  blinked  her  tear-wet 
lashes  at  the  dazzling  sun,  then  turned 
her  attention  to  the  apple.  She  ate  it 
with  great  relish,  the  while  the  student 
leant  back  against  the  tree,  his  hands  in 
his  pockets  and  his  long  legs  crossed. 
Thus  leisurely  reclining,  he  sang  a  song 


208          Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

for  her  pleasure,  such  as  never  before  had 
greeted  her  staid,  religious  little  ears. 
His  voice  was  wondrous  mellow,  and  its 
cadences  flung  over  her  a  charmed  spell. 

"  It  was  a  lover  and  his  lass, 

With  a  hey  and  a  ho  and  a  hey-nonino. 
That  o'er  the  green  corn  fields  did  pass 

In  the  spring-time,  the  only  pretty  ring-time 
When  birds  do  sing,  hey-ding-a-ding,  ding, 

Sweet  lovers  love  the  spring." 

"  Beshrew  me,"  remarked  Abigail,  tak 
ing  a  bite  of  her  apple,  "  but  ye  sing 
strange  songs  in  Boston  Town." 

"Did  ye  ne'er  hear  tell  of  Willie  Shake 
speare,  the  play-actor,"  cried  the  student. 
"  I  am  amazed,  sore  amazed,  at  your  igno 
rance.  Many  a  rare  rhyme  has  he  written, 
God  rest  his  bones,  and  betwixt  you  and 
me,  I,  as  a  Fellow  of  Harvard,  privileged 
to  be  learned,  find  that  there  are  times 
when  his  poesy  rings  with  more  relish  in 
my  ears  than  the  psalms.  I  have  tried 
my  hand  at  verse-making  with  fair  fortune, 
though  I  say  it  as  should  not."  Then 
he  burst  forth  into  another  rollicking 

o 

song: — 


A   Fellow  of  Harvard  209 

"  Full  fathoms  five  thy  father  lies  ; 
Of  his  bones  are  coral  made ; 
Those  are  pearls  that  were  his  eyes  : 
Sea-nymphs  hourly  ring  his  knell  — " 

"  Beshrew  me,  sir,"  interrupted  Abigail, 
her  disapproval  too  strong  to  be  repressed, 
"  but  these  songs  are  not  to  my  liking." 
She  rose.  "  I  will  be  pleased  to  have 
you  read  this  description,  sir,"  she  said, 
drawing  a  paper  from  her  pocket  tied  by 
a  string  around  her  waist,  "  and  tell  me 
if  ye  ken  aught  o'  this  fine  gentleman." 

The  student  rose  and  made  her  a  low 
bow.  "  Since  you  be  pleased  to  put  on 
such  dignity,  mistress,"  said  he,  with  a  fine 
and  jesting  air,  "  I  must  needs  fall  in  with 
your  ways." 

He  took  the  paper  she  extended  to 
him  and  unfolded  it  with  many  airs,  the 
while  crooking  his  little  fingers  daintily. 

This  was  what  he  read,  written  in  a  fair 
and  flowing  hand  as  did  befit  a  teacher  of 
the  Dame  School :  — 

"A  descripshun  of  ye  fine  gentellman  whom  I  met 
in  ye  forest  on  ye  afternoon  of  June  3  wich  is  herein 
sett  downe.  He  be  aboute  three  score  more  or  less 


2io         Ye  Lyttle  Salem  Maide 

&  be  of  make  suffishunt  large  to  be  stared  att  &  for 
ye  naughty  boys  of  ye  streete  to  call  att,  he  having  an 
immoderate  goodly  girth  arounde  ye  middle.  shure 
did  yu  know  him  yu  would  be  of  my  minde  that  he 
had  grate  rank  across  ye  seas  fore  he  wears  full  breeches 
with  knots  of  ryban  of  a  Purple-Blue  colour  att  his 
knees.  alsoe  he  do  walke  inn  grate  bootes.  his 
Sleeves  be  of  fine  Velvet  withe  watchet-Blue  Tiffany 
peeping  through  ye  Slashes,  alsoe  he  carried  a  blacke 
case  bestock  with  smal  sharp  knives  exceeding  bright, 
he  showed  me  a  picture  of  his  lyttle  maide  of  faire 
countenance.  As  regardes  ye  countenance  of  ye  fine 
gentellman  itt  was  wrighte  goode  to  looke  att  having 
Witte  Beauty  &  Goodness,  as  theay  say.  alsoe  he 
weares  a  light  Brown  Wigg,  parted  to  ye  Crown  & 
falling  in  Naturall  Silke  curies  to  his  Shoulders,  his 
Moustache  curls  finely  towards  his  Nose. 

by  ye  wich  descripshun  Abigail  finde  him  & 
deliver  ye  pckge  soe  saye  I  &  ye  Lord  be  willing. 

Deliverance  Wentworth. 
note,      alsoe  he  weares  a  sword." 

"  Well-a-day  !  "  laughed  the  student  as 
he  finished,  "  this  is  a  pretty  joke." 

"  It  be  no  joke  at  all,  sir,"  said  Abigail, 
"and  ye  will  pardon  my  frowardness  in 
contradicting  ye,  for  my  dear  friend 
Deliverance  will  be  hanged  o'  Saturday 
for  witchery."  And  putting  the  ker- 


A   Fellow  of  Harvard  211 

chief  to  her  eyes  she  wept  afresh.  As  she 
did  so,  she  heard  a  strange  sound  like  a 
groan,  and  looked  up  quickly. 

The  student  was  leaning  against  the 
elm,  his  eyes  closed  and  his  face  whiter 
than  the  paper  which  had  fluttered  from 
his  fingers  to  the  ground. 

"  Haps  it  that  ye  ken  her,  sir  ? "  she 
asked  in  an  awed  whisper. 

He  looked  at  her  and  tried  to  regain 
his  composure.  His  lips  moved  dumbly. 
He  turned  away  and  put  his  hand  over  his 
eyes,  leaning  once  more  against  the  tree. 
When  he  looked  again  at  Abigail,  she 
saw  that  tears  bedimmed  his  eyes.  This 
exhibition  of  feeling  on  the  part  of  this  gay 
student  seemed  an  even  more  serious  thing 
than  the  fact  that  Deliverance  was  in  jail, 
or  that  she  herself  had  passed  a  night  in 
the  forest,  exposed  to  savages  and  wolves. 

The  student,  looking  at  the  little  maid's 
troubled,  tear-stained  countenance,  smiled 
in  a  faint,  pitiful  fashion,  bidding  her  have 
hope  and  cheer.  But  his  voice  faltered 
and  broke. 

Something  in  his  smile  arrested  Abigail's 


212          Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

attention.  Suddenly,  a  light  of  recognition 
breaking  over  her  face,  she  put  forth  her 
hands,  crying  joyfully :  "Ye  be  Ronald. 
Ye  be  Deliverance's  brother.  She  telled 
me  to  look  for  ye,  but  I  ne'er  suspicioned 
it  to  be  ye.  But  when  ye  smiled  I  thought 
o'  her,  and  now  I  have  remembrance  o' 
having  seen  ye  in  Salem  Town." 

Young  Wentworth  made  no  reply  save 
by  a  groan.  "  Long  have  I  misdoubted 
these  trials  for  witchery,"  he  muttered. 
"  It  tempts  one  to  atheism.  She,  Deliver 
ance,  a  witch,  to  be  cast  into  prison  !  a 
light-hearted,  careless  child !  God  him 
self  will  pour  out  His  righteous  wrath 
upon  her  judges  if  they  so  much  as  let  a 
hair  of  her  head  be  harmed.  They  have 
convicted  her  falsely,  falsely !  Come," 
he  cried,  turning  fiercely  upon  Abigail, 
"  come,  we  will  rouse  the  town !  We 
shall  see  if  such  things  can  be  done  in  the 
name  of  the  law.  We  shall  see." 

Now  such  anger  had  been  in  his  eyes 
as  to  have  burned  away  his  tears,  but  all  at 
once  his  fierceness  died  and  his  voice  broke. 

"  Did     they     treat     her     harshly,"     he 


A  Fellow  of  Harvard  213 

asked,  —  "  my  little  sister,  who  since  her 
mother  died,  has  been  a  lone  lassie  de 
spite  her  father  and  brother.  Tell  me 
again,  again  that  it  be  not  until  to-morrow, 
—  that  one  day  yet  of  grace  remains." 

So  Abigail  told  him  all  she  knew.  But 
when  he  desired  to  see  the  letter  she  was 
to  give  to  the  Cavalier,  she  protested :  — 

"  I  promised  not  to  read  it  myself  nor 
to  let  any  other  body,  except  him,  for 
Deliverance  said  it  must  be  kept  secret, 
she  being  engaged  on  a  service  for  the 
King.  She  said  when  I  found  ye,  ye 
would  go  with  me  to  look  for  the  fine 
gentleman." 

"  Very  well,  we  will  go,"  he  answered 
briefly,  and  took  her  hand,  seeing  that  it 
would  only  trouble  her  then  to  insist 
upon  having  the  letter,  but  resolving  to 
obtain  possession  of  it  at  the  first  oppor 
tunity. 

"  We  will  go  to  the  Governor's  house, 
first,"  he  added,  "  and  see  if  he  knows  the 
whereabouts  of  any  such  person.  If  not, 
then  I  must  read  the  letter  and  find  the 
clue  to  unravel  this  sad  mystery." 


214         Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

Master  Ronald  walked  on  rapidly, 
holding  her  hand  in  so  tight  a  grasp  that 
she  was  obliged  to  run  to  keep  up  with 
him.  They  soon  left  the  Common  and 
entered  a  street.  There  were  no  sidewalks 
then  in  Boston  Town.  The  roadways, 
paved  with  pebbles,  extended  from  house 
to  house.  They  took  the  middle  of  the 
street  where  the  walking  was  smoothest. 
Once  Master  Ronald  paused  to  consider 
a  sun-dial. 

"  It  lacks  o'er  an  hour  of  ten,"  he  said  ; 
"  we  shall  be  obliged  to  wait.  The  new 
Governor  is  full  of  mighty  high-flown  no 
tions  fetched  from  England,  and  will  see 
no  one  before  ten,  though  it  be  a  matter 
of  life  and  death.  It  sorts  not  with  his 
dignity  to  be  disturbed."  He  glanced 
down  at  Abigail  as  he  finished  speaking, 
and  for  the  first  time  took  notice  that  she 
was  tired  and  pale. 

"  Have  you  broken  fast  this  morn  ?  "  he 
inquired ;  "  I  should  have  bethought  me 
of  your  lack.  There  is  yet  ample  time, 
and  you  must  eat.  Come,"  he  added, 
taking  her  hand  again  and  smiling,  "  it  is 


A   Fellow  of  Harvard  215 

good  for  neither  soul  nor  body  that  the 
latter  should  go  hungered.  The  Queen's 
coffee-house  lies  just  around  yon  corner." 

A  few  moments  later  Abigail  found 
herself  seated  at  a  table  in  a  long,  dark 
room,  very  quiet  and  cool,  with  vine-clad 
windows.  Only  one  other  customer  be 
sides  themselves  was  in  the  room.  He 
was  an  old  gentleman  in  cinnamon-brown 
small-clothes,  and  he  was  so  busy  sipping 
a  cup  of  coffee  and  reading  a  manuscript, 
that  he  did  not  glance  up  at  their  en 
trance.  The  inn-keeper's  buxom  wife 
received  Master  Ronald's  order.  Quite 
on  her  own  account  she  brought  in  also  a 
plate  of  cookies. 

"  Kiss  me  well,  honey-sweet,"  said  she, 
"  and  you  shall  have  the  cookies." 

So  Abigail  kissed  the  goodwife  in  return 
for  her  gift. 

"  Heigh-ho !  "  remarked  Master  Ronald, 
"  in  all  this  worry  and  grief  I  forgot  that 
every  maid  has  a  sweet  tooth,  if  she  be 
the  proper  sort  of  maid."  In  spite  of  his 
little  pleasantry,  his  troubled  look  re 
mained. 


2i6          Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

Abigail  ate  steadily,  not  pausing  to  talk, 
only  now  and  then  glancing  at  her  com 
panion.  After  awhile  Master  Ronald 
rose,  and  strode  up  and  down  with  savage 
impatience.  "Alack!"  he  said,  "I  seem 
to  be  losing  my  wits." 

Abigail,  having  finished,  commenced 
putting  the  remaining  cookies  in  her 
pocket. 

"  Why  do  you  do  that  ?  "  asked  Master 
Ronald. 

"  I  want  summat  to  eat  on  my  way 
home,"  answered  Abigail,  resolutely, 
crowding  in  the  last  cooky. 

The  young  man  laughed,  but  his  laugh 
ter  ended  abruptly  in  a  sigh  of  pain. 

Abigail  could  not  but  admire  the  grand 
and  easy  way  in  which,  with  a  wave  of  his 
hand,  he  bade  the  inn-keeper  charge  the 
breakfast  to  his  account,  as  they  left  the 
coffee-house. 

He  led  the  way  back  to  the  sun-dial. 
They  had  been  gone  not  more  than 
twenty  minutes.  Frowning,  Master  Ron 
ald  turned  his  back  toward  the  dial  and 
leant  against  it.  "  We  may  as  well  stop 


A  Fellow  of  Harvard  217 

here,"  said  he,  "  and  wait  for  the  minutes 
to  speed." 

Abigail   pushed  away  the  vines  to  read 
the  motto  printed  on  the  dial.     "  '  I  marke 
the  Time ;  saye,  gossip,  dost  thou  soe,' ' 
she  read  unconsciously  aloud. 

"  Time,"  echoed  Master  Ronald,  catch 
ing  the  word,  "  time."  He  shrugged 
his  shoulders.  "  What  is  more  perverse 
than  time  ?  It  takes  all  my  philosophy 
to  bear  with  it,  and  I  oft  wonder  why 
'twas  e'er  put  in  the  world.  'Tis  like  a 
wind  that  blows  first  hot  then  cold.  It 
must  needs  stand  still  when  you  most  wish 
it  to  speed,  and  when  you  would  fain  have 
it  stand  still,  it  goes  at  a  gallop."  He 
sighed  profoundly  and  kicked  a  pebble 
with  the  toe  of  his  shoe. 

His  expression  was  so  miserable  that 
Abigail's  ready  tears  flowed  again  in  sym 
pathy,  so  that  she  was  obliged  to  pick  up 
the  hem  of  her  petticoat  and  wipe  them 
away.  Her  attention  was  suddenly  at 
tracted  by  noisy  singing  and  much  mer 
riment.  She  dropped  her  petticoat. 
"  Happen  like  there  be  a  dancing-bear  in 
town?  "  she  asked  eagerly. 


2i 8          Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

"  Nay,"  answered  Master  Ronald,  "  'tis 
some  of  my  fellows  at  the  tavern,  who 
have  been  suspended  a  day  for  riotous 
conduct." 

"  Come,  come,"  cried  he,  taking  her 
almost  fiercely  by  the  hand.  There  was 
a  new  ring  in  his  voice,  a  sudden  strong 
resolve  shining  in  his  face.  He  led  her 
along  the  road  in  the  direction  from  which 
the  sounds  proceeded,  and  paused  at  last 
in  front  of  a  tavern  which  had  as  a  sign  a 
head  of  lettuce  painted  in  red.  From  this 
place  came  the  singing. 

Master  Ronald,  still  holding  her  hand, 
swung  the  door  open  and  stepped  inside 
with  her.  As  her  eyes  became  accus 
tomed  to  the  dim  light  she  perceived 
some  eight  or  ten  young  fellows  with 
lank  locks  falling  about  their  faces,  seated 
around  a  large  bowl  of  hasty  pudding, 
into  which  bowl  they  dipped  their  spoons. 
Two  or  three  who  were  perched  on  the 
table,  however,  had  ceased  eating,  and 
were  smoking  long  brier-wood  pipes. 
They  did  not  perceive  Master  Ronald 
and  Abigail.  Suddenly  they  all  lifted 


A   Fellow  of  Harvard  219 

high  their  mugs  of  sack  and  broke  into 
song. 

"  Where  the  red  lettuce    doth  shine, 

'Tis  an  outward  sign, 
Good  ale  is  a  traffic  within. 

It  will  drown  your  woes 
And  thaw  the  old  snow 

That  grows  on  a  frosty  chin, 

That  grows  on  a  frosty  chin." 

"  Enough,  enough,  sirs ! "  Master  Ron 
ald  cried  sharply;  "down  with  your  mugs! 
Are  ye  to  drink  and  be  merry  when  mur 
der  —  murder,  I  say  —  is  being  done  in 
the  name  of  the  church  and  the  law  ?  " 

The  students  turned  in  open-mouthed 
amazement,  several  still  holding  their 
mugs  suspended  in  the  air.  At  first 
they  were  evidently  disposed  to  be  merry 
as  people  accustomed  to  all  manner  of 
jesting,  but  the  pallor  and  rigid  lines  of 
the  young  man's  face  checked  any  such 
demonstration,  as  well  as  the  unusual  ap 
pearance  of  a  little  maid  in  their  midst. 

Then  one  tall  and  powerful  fellow  rose. 
"  Murder,"  he  said  slowly,  shaking  back 


220         Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

his  hair,  "  murder  —  under  sanction  of  the 
church  and  law.  How  comes  that  ?  " 

Master  Ronald  made  a  gesture  com 
manding  silence,  for  the  others  had  risen, 

o  }  ] 

and  a  confused  hubbub  of  questions  was 
rising.  Then  he  pointed  to  Abigail,  who 
was  near  to  sinking  to  the  floor  with  mor 
tification,  as  all  eyes  were  turned  upon 
her. 

"  This  little  maid,"  he  continued,  when 
the  room  was  again  silent,  "journeyed 
alone  from  Salem  to  Boston  Town,  to  find 
and  tell  me  that  in  Salem  prison  there  is 
confined  another  maid  condemned  for 
witchery  and  under  sentence  of  being 
hanged  on  the  morrow." 

His  words  were  interrupted  by  groans 
and  hisses. 

"A  plague  upon  these  witch-trials," 
cried  one  of  his  hearers  ;  "  a  man  dare  not 
glance  askance  at  his  neighbour,  fearing 
lest  he  be  strung  up  for  sorcery.  And 
now  'tis  a  maid.  Lord  love  us !  Are 
they  not  content  with  torturing  old  bel 
dames  ?  " 

There  came  a  flash  into  the  eyes  of  the 


A  Fellow  of  Harvard  221 

stalwart  youth  who  had  first  spoken. 
"  'Tis  not  so  long  a  journey  to  Salem 
Town  but  we  might  make  it  in  a  night." 

An  answering  flash  lit  the  eyes  of  his 
fellows  as  they  nodded  and  laughed  at  the 
thought  which,  half-expressed,  showed  in 
the  faces  of  all.  But  they  grew  quiet  as 
Master  Ronald  began  speaking  once  more. 

"  'Tis  a  matter  of  life  and  death.  The  im 
prisoned  maid  is  near  the  age  of  this  little 
maid,  as  innocent,  as  free  from  guile — ." 
He  broke  down  and  dropped  into  a  chair, 
folded  his  arms  on  the  table,  and  buried 
his  face  in  them  while  his  shoulders  shook 
with  repressed  grief. 

The  rest,  troubled  and  embarrassed  by 
his  emotion,  drew  together  in  a  little 
group  and  talked  in  low  tones. 

"  Perchance  'tis  a  relation,  a  sister," 
commented  one  young  man,  "a  maid,  he 
said,  like  yonder  little  lass ; "  and  the 
speaker  indicated  Abigail,  who  had  edged 
over  to  the  door  and  stood,  with  burning 
face,  nervously  fingering  her  linsey-woolsey 
petticoat. 

"  I   have    no    patience  with    these,   our 


222          Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

godly  parsons,"  cried  another  student, 
who  wore  heavily  bowed  spectacles.  "  I 
have  here  a  composition,  which  with  great 
pains  I  have  set  down,  showing  how  weak 
are  the  proofs  brought  against  those  ac 
cused  of  witchery."  He  took  off  and 
breathed  on  his  spectacles  and  wiped  them 
on  his  kerchief.  Then,  having  replaced 
them  on  his  nose,  he  drew  a  written  paper 
out  of  his  pocket  and  unfolding  it  began 
to  read  aloud. 

But  he  was  interrupted  impatiently  by 
the  rest.  "  'Tis  no  time  for  words  but 
action,  Master  Hutchinson,"  they  cried, 
giving  him  the  prefix  to  his  name,  for 
these  young  Cambridge  men  called  each 
other  "Master"  and  "Sir"  with  marked 
punctiliousness. 

"  It  behooves  me  'twere  well  to  inquire 
into  the  merits  of  this  case,  but  I  am  loath 
to  disturb  him,"  said  one  bright-eyed 
young  man,  whom  his  fellows  called  Phi 
lander,  glancing  at  Master  Ronald's  bowed 
head.  "  Ah,  I  have  it!"  he  cried,  clapping 
the  man  nearest  him  on  the  shoulder ; 
"we'll  not  disturb  his  moping-fit  but  let 


A  Fellow  of  Harvard  223 

him  have  it  out.  Meanwhile  we'll  make 
inquiry  of  this  little  maid." 

As  he  drew  near  Abigail,  she,  startled, 
flew  to  Master  Ronald's  side  and  shook 
him.  "Oh,  sir,"  she  cried,  "wake  up! 
They  are  going  to  speer  me." 

At  this  the  gravity  of  the  young  men 
relaxed  into  laughter  so  hearty  that  even 
Master  Ronald,  looking  up,  compre 
hended  the  situation  and  smiled  faintly. 

"  They  are  less  amusing  and  more  dan 
gerous  than  dancing-bears,  eh,  Mistress 
Abigail  ?  "  he  asked,  rising  to  his  feet. 

Abigail  did  not  commit  herself  by  reply 
ing.  "Let  us  haste  away,  sir,"  she  said; 
"  bethink  yourself  how  Deliverance  waits, 
and  you  will  pardon  my  rudeness,  but, 
sir,  it  be  no  time  now  for  a  moping-fit." 

"Bravo!"  cried  Master  Philander, 
"there  is  the  woman  of  it.  You  prefer 
to  do  your  duty  first  and  have  your  weep 
afterwards." 

"  I  will  take  you  to  see  the  Governor 
in  a  moment,  Mistress  Abigail,"  said 
Master  Ronald  ;  "  we  will  be  there  prompt 
on  the  moment.  There  is  that  whereof  I 


224          Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

would  speak  to  my  friends  who  are  bound 
to  any  cause  of  mine,  as  I  to  theirs,  in  all 
loyalty,  when  that  cause  be  just." 

At  this  the  students  interrupted  him  by 
shouts,  but  he  raised  his  hand  to  silence 
them.  "  Hear  me  to  the  end  without 
interruption,  as  the  time  waxes  short.  In 
Salem,  my  fair  young  sister,  scarce  more 
than  a  child  in  years,  languishes  in  jail, 
for  having,  it  is  asserted,  practised  the 
evil  art  of  witchery.  On  the  morrow  she 
will  be  hanged,  unless,  by  the  grace  of 
God,  the  Governor  may  be  prevailed 
upon  to  interfere.  If  he  refuses  justice 
and  mercy,  then  have  we  the  right  to  take 
the  law  into  our*  own  hands,  not  as  tres 
passers  of  the  law,  but  rather  as  defenders 
of  law  and  justice.  As  men  sworn  to 
stand  by  each  other,  how  many  of  you 
will  go  with  me  to  Salem  Town  this  night 
and  save  the  life  of  one  as  innocent  and 
brave,  as  free  from  evil,  as  this  maid  who 
stands  before  you  now  ?  " 

There  was  no  shouting  this  time,  but 
silently  each  young  man  moved  over  and 
shook  hands  with  the  speaker  in  pledge 
of  his  loyalty  and  consent. 


A  Fellow  of  Harvard  225 

"  And  now,"  added  Master  Ronald,  "  I 
will  go  to  the  Governor's  house,  that  you 
may  have  your  say  with  him,  Mistress 
Abigail." 

"  We  will  escort  you  there,"  said  the 
stalwart  young  fellow  Abigail  had  first 
noticed.  Before  she  could  protest,  to  her 
indignation  he  had  seized  her  and  swung 
her  up  on  his  broad  shoulder,  passed  her 
arm  around  his  neck,  and  rested  her  feet 
on  his  broad  palm. 

"  Now  I  have  placed  you  above  learn 
ing,  little  mistress,"  he  cried  gayly  ;  "  duck 
your  head  as  we  go  through  the  door." 

Abigail  clasped  his  neck  tightly,  and 
lifted  up  her  heart  in  prayer.  Intense 
was  her  mortification  to  observe  how  the 
people  turned  and  looked  after  them. 
She  grew  faint  at  the  thought  of  her 
father's  awful,  pious  eye  beholding  her. 

"  They  may  be  much  for  learning," 
she  murmured,  glancing  over  the  heads  of 
the  students,  "  but,  beshrew  me,  they  be 
like  a  pack  o'  noisy  boys.  Oh,  Deliver 
ance,  Deliverance,  how  little  ye  kenned 
this  torment!  " 


Chapter    XV 
Lord  Christopher   Mallett 

DOWN  many  a  crooked  street  and 
round  many  a  corner,  the  crowd  of 
students  bore  her,  until  at  last  they 
reached  the  Governor's  place,  "  a  faire 
brick  house  "  on  the  corner  of  Salem  and 
Charter  streets. 

Above  the  doorway  were  the  King's 
arms  richly  carved  and  gilded.  Some 
stone  steps  led  down  the  sloping  lawn 
to  the  street,  which  was  shut  out  by  a 
quaint  wooden  fence. 

Here,  at  the  lanterned  gateway,  the 
student  who  carried  Abigail  set  her  down 
upon  the  ground. 

"  Come,  Mistress  Abigail,"  said  Master 
Ronald,  holding  the  gate  open  for  her  to 
pass  in. 

Once  safely  inside  Abigail  did  not  for 
get  her  manners,  but  turned  about,  spread 
226 


Lord  Christopher  Mallett        227 

out  her  petticoat,  and  courtesied  to  all  the 
merry  young  gentlemen,  who,  leaning  over 
the  gate,  smiled  and  doffed  their  caps. 

Then  retying  the  strings  of  her  bonnet 
primly  under  her  chin,  and  giving  her 
skirts  a  flirt,  she  walked  with  Master  Ron 
ald  to  the  door. 

Master  Ronald  raised  the  knocker  and 
rapped  thrice  vigorously. 

The  door  was  opened  by  an  old  Moor, 
—  so  was  the  negro  called  by  the  good 
folk  of  those  days.  When  he  beheld  the 
student  he  smiled  and  bowed  ;  then  with 
deprecating  gesture  fell  to  shaking  his 
head  solemnly. 

"  Don't  concern  yourself  this  time, 
Pompey,"  said  the  student,  grimly.  "  I 
have  other  business  than  whining  for 
pardon.  Lack-a-mercy-me  !  I  feel  as  if  I 
should  never  have  heart  for  any  more 
quips  or  pranks.  Is  his  Excellency  in  ? 
Tell  him  that  Ronald  Wentworth,  a  Fel 
low  of  Harvard,  awaits  his  pleasure." 

The  negro  ushered  them  into  the  hall- 
room  and  placed  a  stool  for  Abigail.  The 
little  maid  perched  herself  stiffly  upon  it 


228          Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

and  gazed  around  her,  greatly  awed  by 
the  magnificence,  while  Master  Ronald, 
with  his  hands  behind  him  clasping  his 
cap,  paced  restlessly  up  and  down  the 
room,  his  countenance  so  colourless  and 
lined  with  anxiety  that  it  was  like  the 
face  of  an  old  man.  The  hall  into  which 
they  had  been  shown  served  not  only  as  a 
passageway  but  as  a  living-room.  From 
one  side  the  staircase,  with  its  quaintly 
carved  balustrade,  rose  by  a  flight  of 
broad  steps  to  the  second  story.  In  the 
centre  of  this  hall-room  was  a  long  table 
laid  with  a  rich  cloth  on  which  was  placed 
a  decanter  of  wine.  Stools  with  cushions 
of  embroidered  green  velvet  were  placed 
for  those  who  sat  at  the  Governor's  board. 
Abigail's  sharp  eyes  noted  a  spinning- 
wheel  in  front  of  the  fireplace,  which  was 
set  round  with  blue  Dutch  tiles.  But 
she  was  most  delighted  by  a  glimpse  she 
caught  of  the  cupboard  which  contained 
the  Governor's  silver  plate. 

The  rear  door  of  the  hall  was  swung 
open  and  she  could  see  a  pretty  gentle 
woman  working  in  the  garden.  Her 


Lord  Christopher   Mallett        229 

cheeks  vied  in  richness  of  colour  with 
the  crimson  coif  she  wore  beneath  her 
straight-brimmed,  steeple  hat,  as  she 
gathered  a  nosegay,  the  basket  on  her 
arm  being  filled  to  overflowing. 

At  last,  Master  Ronald,  pausing, 
leant  his  elbow  on  the  carved  newel- 
post  of  the  staircase  and  sighed  heavily. 

"  Did  you  say  Deliverance  was  treated 
with  decency  and  kindness  in  jail?"  he 
asked.  "  Let  them  but  harm  a  hair  of  her 
pretty  head  and  they  shall  have  ample 
proof  of  the  love  I  bear  my  little  sister." 

As  he  spoke,  the  door  opposite  opened 
and  a  gentleman  came  out,  closing  it 
behind  him.  Fie  was  a  tall  and  solemn- 
visaged  man,  richly  attired  in  velvet,  with 
a  sword  at  his  side.  There  was  that  air 
of  distinction  in  his  bearing  which  made 
Abigail  instantly  surmise  that  she  was  in 
the  presence  of  Sir  William  Phipps,  the 
new  Governor,  who  had  arrived  last 
month  from  England.  He  addressed  her 
companion,  taking  no  notice  of  her. 

"  Well,  well,  Master  Wentworth,  and 
that  be  your  name,"  he  said,  "  let  me 


230         Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

warn  you  to  expect  no  leniency  from  me 
nor  intercession  on  your  behalf  with  your 
masters  at  Cambridge.  I  have  scarce 
been  in  this  miserable  country  two  months, 
yet  have  had  naught  dinged  in  my  ears  but 
the  mischievous  pranks  of  you  students 
of  Harvard.  'Tis  first  the  magistrates 
coming  to  complain  of  your  roisterings 
and  rude  and  idle  jestings,  and  I  no  sooner 
have  rid  myself  of  them  than  you  students 
come  next,  following  on  their  very  heels 
with  more  excuses  than  you  could  count, 
and  puling  and  whining  for  mercy.  But 
sit  down,  young  sir,  sit  down,"  he  ended, 
taking  a  seat  as  he  spoke.  He  crossed 
his  legs,  put  the  tips  of  his  fingers  to 
gether,  and  leant  back  comfortably  in  his 
massively  carved  oak  chair.  Chairs  were 
then  found  only  in  the  houses  of  the  very 
well-to-do.  So  it  was  with  some  pride 
that  Sir  William  waved  the  student  to  the 
one  other  chair  in  the  hall. 

But  Master  Ronald,  too  nervous  to 
remain  quiet,  refused  impatiently.  "  I 
have  come  with  —  " 

"  There  is  too  much  of  this  book  learn- 


Lord  Christopher   Mallett        231 

ing,  nowadays,"  interrupted  Sir  William, 
following  his  own  train  of  thought.  "  The 
more  experience  I  have  of  yon  Cambridge 
students,  the  more  convinced  I  be,  that 
three  fourths  should  be  taken  out  of  col 
lege  and  apprenticed  to  a  worthy  trade. 
Let  such  extreme  learning  be  left  to 
scholars,  lest  ordinary  men,  being  too  much 
learned,  should  set  themselves  above  their 
ministers  in  wisdom.  As  for  myself — " 

"  Ay,"  interrupted  Master  Ronald, 
desperately,  "  but  the  matter  on  which 
I  come  to-day  —  " 

"  As  for  myself,"  continued  Sir  William, 
glancing  severely  at  the  student,  "  I 
started  out  in  life  apprenticed  to  an  honest 
trade.  From  ship's  carpenter,  I  have 
risen  to  fortune  and  position.  But  I 
will  confess  I  grow  that  troubled  with  the 
management  of  this  province,  what  with 
the  Indian  and  French  wars  on  the  one 
hand,  and  this  witchery  business  on  the 
other,  that  I  do  often  wish  I  might  go 
back  to  my  broad-axe  again,  where  one 
can  be  an  honest  man  with  less  perplex 
ity." 


232         Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

"  Sir,"  spoke  the  student,  sharply,  "  I 
crave  your  pardon,  but  I  have  no  time 
for  talk  to-day.  'Tis  a  matter — " 

"  Very  well,"  retorted  Sir  William, 
annoyed,  "  we  will  hear  of  this  very  im 
portant  matter,  but  let  me  warn  you  be 
forehand  to  expect  no  indulgence.  So 
you  can  go  on  with  your  plaint,  if  you 
count  time  so  poorly  as  to  waste  it  on 
a  cause  already  lost,  for  'tis  to-day  I  shall 

begin   to    make   an   example  of  some  of 

» 
you. 

"  I  come  on  no  private  business  of  my 
own,"  retorted  Master  Ronald  with  spirit, 
"but  in  company  with  this  little  maid." 
He  indicated  Abigail  by  a  wave  of  his 
hand. 

She  slipped  down  from  her  stool  thereat 
and  courtesied. 

The  Governor  took  no  notice  of  her 
politeness  beyond  a  severe  stare.  "  Well," 
he  inquired,  "  and  for  what  did  you 
come  ? " 

"  If  you  please,  your  Excellency," 
faltered  Abigail,  "  Deliverance,  my  dear 
friend  —  " 


Lord  Christopher  Mallett        233 

At  this,  Master  Ronald,  who  stood  on 
the  further  side  of  the  Governor's  chair, 
coughed.  She  glanced  up  and  saw  he 
had  put  his  ringer  to  his  lips  to  enjoin 
silence.  Frightened,  she  stopped  short. 

During  the  pause,  the  Governor  drew 
out  a  gold  snuff-box  and  took  a  pinch 
of  snuff.  Then  he  flicked  the  powder, 
which  had  drifted  on  his  velvet  coat,  off 
daintily  with  his  kerchief.  "  Well,"  said 
he,  "  have  you  lost  your  tongue  ?  " 

"  My  dear  friend,  Deliverance,"  repeated 
Abigail. 

"  In  other  words,"  broke  in  Master 
Ronald,  his  tone  sharp  with  anxiety,  "she 
desires  to  ask  your  Excellency  if  you 
know  the  whereabouts  of  any  person 
answering  this  description."  And  briefly 
he  described  the  stranger  whom  Deliver 
ance  had  met  in  the  forest. 

At  these  words  the  Governor's  expres 
sion  mellowed  slightly  and  he  smiled. 
"  Then  you  have  no  favour  to  ask  of 
me,"  he  said.  "  I  think  I  know  the  person 
of  whom  you  speak."  He  rose.  "I  will 
find  out  if  you  may  see  him." 


234         Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

As  he  crossed  the  hall,  he  glanced  out 
of  the  entrance-door  which  had  been  left 
half-closed. 

Abigail's  eyes,  following  the  direction 
of  his,  beheld  the  students  perched  in 
a  row  on  the  front  fence. 

His  Excellency  turned,  bestowing  a 
grim  look  on  Master  Ronald. 

"  What  scarecrows  are  those  on  my 
fence?"  he  asked.  "I  doubt  not  I  could 
make  better  use  of  them  in  my  corn 
fields."  And  with  an  audible  sniff  he 
opened  the  door  on  his  right  and  entered 
the  room  beyond. 

"  The  Lord  in  his  infinite  justice  is 
on  our  side,"  spoke  Master  Ronald, 
solemnly,  as  the  door  closed  behind  the 
Governor.  "  Praise  be  unto  Him  from 
whom  cometh  all  mercy."  He  took  a 
couple  of  long  steps  which  brought  him 
to  Abigail's  side.  "  Say  no  word  of 
witchery  to  his  Excellency,"  he  whispered 
sternly,  "  lest  you  spoil  all  by  a  false 
move.  Mind  what  I  say,  for  he  is 
carried  away  by  fanaticism,  and  in  his 
zeal  to  clear  the  land  of  witches  makes 


Lord  Christopher   Mallett        235 

no  provision  to  spare  the  innocent. 
Hush ! "  He  drew  quickly  away  as 
steps  were  heard  in  the  next  room. 
He  clasped  his  hands  behind  him  and 
commenced  pacing  the  floor,  humming 
in  apparent  unconcern  :  — 

"  Full  fathoms  five  thy  father  lies  ; 
Of  his  bones  are  coral  made  ; 
Those  are  pearls  that  were  his  eyes  : 
Sea-nymphs  hourly  ring  his  knell  "  — 

Abigail  fairly  quaked  in  her  shoes. 

Another  moment,  and  the  door  through 
which  the  Governor  had  passed  was 
opened  by  the  old  Moor.  He  beckoned 
them  to  enter. 

They  found  themselves  in  a  spacious 
apartment,  the  state  bed-chamber  of  the 
house. 

Standing  well  out  in  the  centre  of  the 
room  was  a  great  four-poster  bed,  with 
a  crimson  canopy.  The  curtains  were 
drawn  back,  revealing  a  man  lying  dressed 
on  the  bed,  propped  up  by  pillows. 

The  Governor  sat  beside  him.  He 
nodded  to  the  two  young  people. 


236          Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

"  Is  not  this  the  gentleman  you  seek  ?" 
he  asked,  with  a  wave  of  his  hand  toward 
the  occupant  of  the  bed. 

They  had  recognized  him,  however,  at 
once.  There  was  the  flowing  wig  of  chest 
nut  hue,  the  comely  countenance,  the 
rich  dress,  the  curled  moustache  Deliver 
ance  had  so  admired.  One  of  his  legs, 
bound  in  wool  and  linen,  rested  on  a 
pillow.  On  a  table  at  the  further  side 
of  the  bed  were  placed  some  quills,  an 
ink-horn,  and  paper ;  also  a  jug  of  wine 
and  silver  mugs. 

"  By  my  troth,"  cried  this  fine  person, 
jovially,  "  I  expected  none  such  pretty 
visitor.  Come  here  and  kiss  me,  little 
maiden,  and  I  swear  you  shall  have  your 
wish,  whatsoe'er  it  be.  And  it  be  not  the 
round  moon  or  the  throne  of  England," 
he  added  chuckling. 

Abigail  courtesied  at  a  safe  distance 
from  the  bed. 

Meanwhile,  Master  Ronald  had  his  eye 
on  Governor  Phipps.  He  feared  to  men 
tion  their  errand  in  the  presence  of  his 
Excellency,  knowing  that  they  might  ex- 


Lord  Christopher  Mallett        237 

pect  neither  reason  nor  tolerance  from 
him.  So  he  drew  himself  up  to  his  full 
height  and  said  with  confidence,  not 
unbecoming  in  so  learned  a  Fellow  of 
Harvard :  — 

"  Your  Excellency,  this  is  a  very  pri 
vate  and  personal  business."  Having 
said  this  he  bowed  so  low  that  his  dark 
hair  fell  over  his  face.  Thus  he  remained 
with  his  head  deferentially  bent  during 
the  moment  of  amazed  silence  which 
elapsed  before  his  Excellency  replied. 

"  I  have  no  desire  to  hear,"  he  retorted, 
his  small  eyes  snapping  with  wrath,  "  but 
I  would  say  unto  you,  young  sir,  that 
'tis  exceeding  low-bred  for  you  to  be  set 
ting  a  lesson  in  manners  to  your  elders 
and  betters ;  exceeding  unfortunate  and 
ill-bred,  say  I,  though  you  be  a  Fellow  of 
Harvard,  where,  I  warrant,  more  young 
prigs  flourish  than  in  all  England." 
With  which  fling  his  Excellency  rose  and 
left  the  room,  followed  by  his  servant. 

"  I  'gin  to  be  fair  concerned  as  to  what 
this  mighty  business  will  prove  to  be," 
said  the  merry  invalid;  "my  curiosity  con- 


238          Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

sumes  me  as  a  flame.  But  sit  you  down, 
little  mistress,  and  you,  young  sir.  You 
must  not  deem  me  lacking  in  gallantry 
that  I  rise  not.  Here  have  I  lain  two 
weeks  with  the  gout.  Was  e'er  such 
luck  ?  But,  why  fret  and  fume,  say  I, 
why  fret  and  fume  and  broil  with  anxiety 
like  an  eel  in  a  frying-pan  ?  Yet  was  e'er 
such  luck  as  to  have  your  thumb  on  your 
man  and  not  be  able  to  take  him  ?  " 

"  Sir,"  spoke  Master  Ronald  from  the 
stool  on  which  he  had  seated  himself,  "  we 
come  on  a  matter  of  life  and  death.  My 
sister,  Deliverance  Wentworth,  the  child 
you  met  in  the  forest  outside  Salem  Town, 
some  three  weeks  ago,  is  to  be  hanged  on 
the  morrow  for  witchery,  unless  by  the 
grace  of  God  you  have  power  to  interfere." 

At  these  words  the  invalid's  florid  face 
paled,  and  he  sank  back  on  his  pillows 
with  a  gasp  of  mingled  horror  and  aston 
ishment. 

"The  Lord  have  mercy  on  this  evil 
world  !  "  he  said,  wagging  his  head  portent 
ously.  "  Alack,  alack  !  the  times  grow 
worse.  What  manner  of  men  are  these 


Lord  Christopher   Mallett        239 

lean,  sour  Puritans  that  they  would  e'en 
put  their  babes  to  death  for  witchery  ? 
As  pretty  and  simple  a  maid  was  she  as 
any  I  e'er  set  eyes  on,  not  excepting  my 
sweetest  daughter  over  the  seas." 

"  Ay,"  said  the  student,  raising  his 
white  face  from  his  hands,  "  as  sweet  a 
maid  as  God  e'er  breathed  life  into.  But 
I  say  this,"  he  cried,  raising  his  voice 
shrilly,  in  his  excitement,  "that  if  they 
harm  her  they  shall  suffer  for  it." 

"  Not  a  hair  shall  they  hurt,  and  God 
grant  me  grace  to  live  to  get  there,"  cried 
the  invalid.  "  Is  my  word  to  be  ac 
counted  of  naught,"  and  he  tapped  his 
breast,  "  mine  ?  Oh,  ho  !  let  any  dare  to 
deny  or  disregard  it,  and  he  shall  rue  it." 

"  Sir,"  said  Abigail,  approaching  him 
timidly,  "  Deliverance  Wentworth  sends 
ye  this." 

He  took  the  package  and  untied  the 
tow  string  which  bound  it.  There  were 
two  papers,  one  the  sealed  parchment  Abi 
gail  had  found  in  the  still-room  and  the 
other  the  letter  Deliverance  had  written. 

When  the  Cavalier  saw  the  parchment, 


24°         Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Malde 

he  gave  an  inarticulate  sound  and  clutched 
it  to  his  breast,  kissed  it  and  waved  it  wildly. 

"  By  my  troth  !  "  he  cried,  "  the  little 
maid  whom  they  would  hang,  hath  saved 
England." 

In  his  excitement  he  rose,  but  no 
sooner  had  he  put  his  foot  on  the  floor, 
than  he  groaned  and  fell  back  on  the  bed. 
His  face  became  so  scarlet  that  Master 
Ronald  started  up,  thinking  a  leech 
should  be  sent  for  to  bleed  him,  but  the 
sufferer  waved  him  back,  and  lay  down 
uttering  praise  and  thanksgiving,  save 
when  he  paused  for  groans  so  terrible, 
that  Abigail  jumped  at  every  one.  When 
he  had  exhausted  himself  and  grown  quiet, 
she,  feeling  it  safe  to  approach  him,  sum 
moned  up  courage  to  hand  him  Deliver 
ance's  letter,  which  had  fallen  from  the 
bed  to  the  floor. 

"Ye  forgot  her  letter,"  she  said  re 
proachfully. 

As  the  Cavalier  read,  he  swore  mighty 
oaths  under  his  breath,  and  before  he 
finished,  the  tears  were  falling  on  the 
little  letter. 


Lord  Christopher  Mallett        241 

u  HON'D  SIR  :  yu  will  indede  be  surprised 
to  lern  of  my  peetiful  condishun  fore  I  be 
languishing  away  in  prison  &  round  my  ankel 
be  an  iron  wring  held  by  ye  chain  &  itt  be  a 
grate  afflictshun  to  ye  flesh  Alle  this  has  come 
uponn  me  since  I  met  with  yu  in  ye  forest  & 
olde  Bartholomew  Stiles  wich  some  say  be  a 
Fule  —  but  I  would  nott  say  of  my  own  Accord 
—  took  yu  fore  Satan  wich  was  a  sadd  mistake 
fore  me.  Alsoe  Goodwife  Higgins  mistook 
a  yellow  witch-bird  &.  said  ye  same  was  me. 
I  blame  her  nott  fore  I  had  rised  betimes  & 
gonne  to  ye  brooke  &  tried  onn  ye  golde 
beads  &  this  yu  will  perceive  I  could  nott  tell 
her  lest  I  should  betray  ye  secret  &  I  did  give 
ye  message  to  Sir  Jonathan  Jamieson  &  he  saide 
I  was  a  witch  &  alsoe  Ebenezer  Gibbs  saide  I 
stuck  pinnes  in  him  when  I  but  rapped  his 
pate  fore  larfing  in  school  &  intising  others  to 
Evil  acts  such  as  Twisting  ye  Hair  of  Stability 
Williams  &  fore  alle  this  ye  godly  magistrates 
have  sentenced  me  to  be  hanged  wich  Hon'd 
Sir  yu  will  agree  be  a  sadd  afflictshun  to  ye 
flesh 

As  regards  ye  service  fore  ye  King  Abigail 
wich  be  my  deare  friend  will  give  yu  a  pckge. 
but  no  more  lest  this  fall  into  ye  wrong  handes 
when  yu  read  this  I  trust  yu  will  in  Gods 


242          Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

name  come  fast  to  Salem  &  take  me  out  of 
prison  fore  I  am  in  sore  Distress  &  can  find 
nothing  comforting  in  ye  Scripture,  against 
being  hanged  &  I  beginn  to  feare  God  has  not 
pardoned  my  sinnes. 

Sir  Jonathan  Jamieson  torments  me  most 
grievous  &  I  saye  unto  yu  Privately  he  be  a 
Hypocrite  &  itt  be  Woe  unto  him  Whited 
sepulchre  I  ken  nott  what  he  will  do  when  he 
fincles  ye  Parchment  be  gonne  but  no  more 
lest  I  betray  ye  secret  &  if  I  should  be  hanged 
afore  yu  come  I  do  heartily  repent  my  sinnes 
wich  I  cannot  set  down  in  wrighting  fore  I  have 
no  more  Ink.  I  beg  with  tears  yu  will  come 
in  time.  Hon'd  Sir  I  bewayl  my  ylls  &  peeti- 
ful  condishun 

DELIVERANCE  WENTWORTH. 

note  —  I  hereinn  putt  down  my  will  that 
Abigail  shall  have  my  golde  beads  amen 

note  —  alsoe  in  Ipswich  bides  a  hunchback 
whose  mother  be  hanged  fore  a  witch  &  he  be 
named  lyttel  Hate-Evil  Hobbs  &  should  I  be 
hanged  I  trust  Hon'd  Sir  yu  will  shew  him 
kindness  fore  me  &  now  no  more  amen." 

"  Please  God  !  "  spoke  the  Cavalier, 
reverently,  "  Deliverance  Wentworth  hath 
done  a  mighty  service  for  her  King,  and 


Lord  Christopher   Mallett        243 

she  shall  not  go  unrewarded,  for  I  am 
one  who  speaks  with  authority." 

At  these  words  the  student  looked  up 
with  a  flash  of  hope  in  his  eyes,  and  Abi 
gail  drew  nearer  the  bed. 

c<  Arrange  the  pillows  under  my  head, 
little  mistress,"  said  the  Cavalier,  "  and 
you,  young  sir,  draw  up  the  table  and  fill 
the  mugs.  'Tis  bad,  I  wot,  for  my  leg, 
still  a  little  good  red  wine  for  the  stom 
ach's  sake  is  not  to  be  done  away  with. 

"  And  now,"  quoth  he,  solemnly,  lifting 
high  his  mug,  "  we  will  drink  to  the  health 
of  Deliverance  Wentworth,  who  hath  done 
a  mighty  service  for  her  King.  She  shall 
not  go  unrewarded,  for  I  speak  with 
authority.  For,"  swelling  his  chest  im 
portantly,  "  you  behold  in  me  Christopher 
Mallett,  Lord  of  Dunscomb  County  and 
Physician  to  his  Majesty,  the  King." 


Chapter    XVI 
At  the  Governor's  House 

WHILE  they  were  still  drinking, 
there  came  an  imperious  rap  on 
the  door.  In  response  to  Lord  Christo 
pher's  bidding,  the  Governor  entered,  fol 
lowed  by  a  young  minister. 

Abigail  was  awed  at  the  sight  of  the 
latter,  recalling  how  she  had  seen  him  in 
the  forest  only  a  few  short  hours  ago. 
The  student  put  down  his  wine-cup  and 
rose,  deeply  respectful. 

"  I  have  come  to  tell  you,  my  dear 
friend,"  said  the  Governor,  addressing 
himself  to  the  Cavalier,  "  that  a  very 
strange  miscarriage  of  justice  calls  me  at 
once  to  Salem." 

Ere  the  Cavalier  could  reply,  his  atten 
tion  was  diverted  by  the  strange  action  of 

J  D 

Cotton    Mather,    who,    pausing    half-way 

244 


At  the  Governor's  House       245 

across  the  room,  was  staring  at  the  little 
maid. 

"  I  did  see  the  spectre  of  that  child  rise 
before  me  in  the  forest  this  very  morn," 
he  cried  in  a  curious  voice. 

"  Nay,  good  sir,"  cried  Abigail,  finding 
voice  in  her  terror,  "  it  was  my  very  living 
shape  ye  saw." 

"  It  rose  in  my  path,"  spoke  Cotton 
Mather,  as  if  he  heard  her  not.  "  I,  believ 
ing  it  a  living  child,  did  glance  about  to 
see  who  accompanied  it.  When  I  looked 
for  it  again  the  Shape  had  gone." 

"  Nay,"  cried  Abigail,  in  mortal  terror. 
"  Nay,  good  sir,  nay,  it  was  my  living  self." 

"  Ay,  reverend  sir,  it  was  the  little 
maid  you  beheld  indeed,  and  no  Dead 
Shape  that  rose  at  the  Devil's  bidding," 
cried  Lord  Christopher,  and  the  effect  of 
his  mellow,  vigorous  voice  was  magical. 
So  heartily  it  rang  that  the  others'  thoughts 
of  spirits  and  visions  grew  faint  as  those 
visions  are  disposed  to  be  faint  in  flesh. 

All  felt  it  but  Cotton  Mather. 
Wrapped  in  his  own  thoughts,  he  still 
stared  at  the  little  maid. 


246          Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

"  Do  you  not  perceive  the  child  is 
frightened  to  be  so  regarded  ?  "  cried  the 
Cavalier,  impatiently  "  I  can  swear  to 
you,  prove  to  you,  her  living  self  was  in 
the  forest  this  morning.  In  Salem  Town, 
accused  falsely  of  witchery,  there  lan 
guishes  a  little  maid — " 

"A  little  maid,"  cried  Cotton  Mather, 
still  in  his  strained  voice.  Suddenly,  as 
if  grown  faint,  he  sank  upon  a  chair  and 
covered  his  eyes  with  his  hands.  Thus 
he  remained  for  several  moments,  while 
his  companions,  awed  by  his  emotion, 
waited  in  a  silence  not  unmingled  with 
curiosity.  After  awhile  he  took  away  his 
hand  from  his  eyes  and  raised  his  face. 
Worn  it  was  by  the  night's  long  ride  and 
lack  of  food,  sad  it  was,  for  he  had  but 
just  come  from  the  death-bed  of  a  beloved 
parishioner,  but  above  all  it  was  glorified 
by  a  transfiguring  faith. 

"  A  little  maid,"  he  repeated,  and  now 
his  voice  was  tender;  "she  sits  in  prison 
on  her  straw  pallet,  knitting,  and  the  good 
God  watches  over  her." 

In  that  solemn  silence  which   followed 


At  the  Governor's   House       247 

his  words,  the  room  lost  all  semblance  to 
the  Governor's  state  bed-chamber.  Its 
spacious  walls  faded  and  narrowed  to  a 
prison  cell,  wherein  on  her  straw  pallet, 
sat  a  little  maiden  knitting. 

The  silence  was  broken  by  a  smothered 
sob.  The  faithful  little  friend,  her  face 
buried  on  Lord  Christopher's  broad  breast, 
was  weeping. 

When  at  last  on  that  kind  breast  her 
sobs  were  hushed,  the  minister  spoke 
again  and  she  raised  her  head  that  she 
might  listen. 

He  told  them  how  the  night  before, 
after  his  supper  at  the  inn-house,  he  had 
retired  to  his  room  to  study.  But  he  was 
restless  and  could  not  compose  his  thought, 
and  whatever  he  wrote  was  meaningless. 
So,  believing  this  non-success  to  be  a  re 
proof  from  the  Lord,  inasmuch  as  he  was 
writing  on  a  profane  and  worldly  subject, 
he  laid  down  his  quill  and  fastened  his 
papers  with  a  weight,  that  the  breeze  com 
ing  in  the  open  window  might  not  blow 
them  away.  Then  had  he  opened  his 
Bible.  Now  the  breeze  was  grateful  to 


248          Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

him,  for  his  room  was  warm.  A  subtle 
fragrance  of  the  meadow  and  the  peace  of 
the  night  seemed  to  be  wafted  about  him. 
He  was  reminded  how  one  of  the  Patri 
archs  of  old  had  gone  "  forth  into  the 
fields  at  even-tide  to  pray."  This  thought 
was  gracious  and  so  won  upon  him,  that 
he  rose  and  snuffed  his  candles,  and  went 
out  into  a  wide  field  lying  back  of  the 
inn. 

The  moon  was  not  risen,  but  the  night 
was  so  fair  and  holy  by  reason  of  the  star 
light,  that  the  white  reflection  of  some 
young  meadow  birches  showed  in  the 
stream,  and,  a  distance  off,  he  could  see 
the  moving  shapes  of  some  cows.  He 
heard  the  tinkling  of  their  bells.  He  felt 
no  longer  restless  but  at  deep  peace. 

It  seemed  not  long  before  he  heard  the 
night  watchman  making  his  rounds,  crying 
all  good  folk  in  for  the  night.  He  heard 
him  but  faintly,  however,  as  in  a  dream. 
His  heart  was  exceedingly  melted  and  he 
felt  God  in  an  inexpressible  manner,  so 
that  he  thought  he  should  have  fallen  into 
a  trance  there  in  the  meadow.  The  sum- 


At  the  Governor's   House        249 

mons  of  the  night  watchman  began  to 
sound  louder  in  his  ears,  so,  reminding 
himself  that  the  greatest  duty  was  ever 
the  nearest  duty,  he  turned  to  go  toward 
the  inn-house.  Just  then  he  saw  near  the 
cluster  of  meadow  birches,  the  little  maid 
he  had  visited  in  prison  in  the  afternoon. 
She  was  clothed  in  shining  white  and  trans 
parent  in  the  starlight  as  a  wan  ghost. 

Still,  by  the  glory  in  her  face,  he  knew 
it  was  not  her  Dead  Shape,  but  her  resur 
rected  self.  As  he  would  have  spoken 
she  vanished,  and  only  the  white  trunks 
of  the  young  birches  remained. 

By  this,  he  knew  it  was  a  sign  from 
God  that  she  was  innocent,  being  showed 
to  him  as  if  caught  up  to  Heaven.  At 
this  he  remembered  her  words  in  prison, 
when  Sir  Jonathan  had  sought  to  make 
her  confess  by  threatening  that  she  should 
be  put  to  death  by  stones. 

An  enraged  groan  and  a  missile  thrown 
interrupted  him.  The  pale  student  in  his 
passion  had  hurled  his  wine-mug  across 
the  room. 

"  And  you  sat  by  and  heard  that  vile 


250         Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

wretch  so  torture  a  child!"  he  cried.  "Oh, 
my  God !  of  what  stuff  are  these  thy  min 
isters  fashioned,  that  this  godly  servant  of 
thine  did  not  take  such  a  living  fiend  by 
the  scruff  of  his  neck  and  fling  him  out  of 
the  cell  ?  " 

"  Come,  come,  young  sir,"  cried  Sir 
William,  angrily,  "  Mr.  Mather  had  not 
then  received  the  sign  that  your  sister  was 
not  bound  to  the  Evil  One.  I  will  have  not 
the  least  discourtesy  put  upon  him  in  my 
house,  and  the  wine-mug  flung  in  your 
wicked  passion  but  just  missed  my  head." 

Cotton  Mather  waited  patiently  until 
the  disturbance  his  words  had  wrought 
subsided.  His  ministerial  experience  had 
taught  him  sympathy  with  the  humours  of 
people  in  trouble.  With  a  compassionate 
glance,  directed  toward  the  student,  he 
continued  to  relate  how  he  had  straight 
way  repaired  to  the  inn,  and  ordering  his 
horse  saddled,  had  journeyed  all  night,  that 
he  might  get  a  reprieve  for  the  prisoner's 
life  from  Governor  Phipps  in  time.  He 
was  delayed  in  seeing  the  Governor 
sooner,  as  upon  entering  Boston  Town 


At  the  Governor's   House        251 

he  was  summoned  to  the  death-bed  of  a 
parishioner. 

"  While  all  this  but  the  more  surely 
convinces  me  of  the  evil  reality  of  this 
awful  visitation  of  witches,"  he  ended, 
"  yet  we  must  not  put  too  much  faith  in 
pure  spectre  evidence,  for  it  is  proven  in 
this  case  that  the  Devil  did  take  upon 
himself  the  shape  of  one  very  innocent 
and  virtuous  maid." 

"  'Tis  a  very  solemn  question,  my  dear 
sir,"  rejoined  the  Cavalier,  wagging  his 
handsome  head.  "  I  remember  once  talk 
ing  it  over  with  my  very  honoured  con 
temporary,  Sir  Thomas  Browne.  '  I  am 
clearly  of  the  opinion,'  said  he  to  me,  'that 
the  fits  are  natural,  but  heightened  by  the 
Devil  cooperating  with  the  malices  of 
the  witches,  at  whose  instance  he  does  the 
villanies. " 

"  Sir,"  asked  Master  Ronald  of  the  Gov 
ernor,  "when  will  you  give  me  the  reprieve, 
that  I  may  start  at  once  for  Salem  ?  " 

"  Nay,"  cried  Lord  Christopher,  "  'twas 
I  who  brought  trouble  on  the  little  maid. 
'Tis  I  shall  carry  the  reprieve." 


252         Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

"  Methinks  'twere  wisdom  that  I  should 
go  in  person,  accompanied  by  soldiers," 
spoke  the  Governor,  "  lest  there  be  an 
uprising  among  the  people  at  the  reprieval 
of  one  convicted  for  witchery." 

"  Little  mistress,"  said  the  Cavalier  to 
Abigail,  "  be  pretty-mannered  and  run 
and  get  me  the  decanter  of  wine  from  the 
living-room  that  we  may  again  drink  the 
health  of  the  little  maid  in  prison." 

Abigail  obediently  went  out  into  the 
hall.  There  she  saw  the  pretty  gentle 
woman  whom  she  had  noticed  in  the 
garden,  standing  by  the  table,  drawing  off 
her  gauntlet  gloves.  Behind  her  stood  a 
little  black  Moor  dressed  in  the  livery  of 
the  Governor's  household,  and  holding 
a  basket  filled  with  eggs  and  vegetables 
fresh  from  the  market. 

Lady  Phipps  turned  as  she  heard  steps 
behind  her,  and  revealed  a  sprightly  face 
with  a  fresh  red  colour,  and  fine  eyes,  black 
as  sloes.  "  Lackaday,  my  pretty  child  !  " 
she  cried,  "  and  prithee  who  might  you 
be?" 

Abigail    dropped   a   courtesy.      "  I    be 


At  the  Governor's   House        253 

Abigail  Brewster,  of  Salem  Town,"  an 
swered  she. 

"  I  hope  I  see  you  well,"  said  the  gen 
tlewoman. 

Abigail  dropped  another  courtesy. 
"And  it  will  pleasure  you,  madam," 
said  she,  "  yon  fine  and  portly  gentle 
man,  whom  I  come  for  to  see,  wishes 
more  wine  to  drink  therein  the  health 
of  Deliverance  Wentworth." 

Lady  Phipps  shook  her  head.  "  I  fear 
in  drinking  others'  health  he  drinks  away 
his  own.  I  will  attend  to  you  in  a  mo 
ment,  as  soon  as  I  have  sent  my  little 
Moor  to  the  kitchen  with  the  market 
ing." 

D 

While  Abigail  waited  there  was  a  vigor 
ous  pounding  in  the  adjoining  room.  At 
this,  Lady  Phipps  smiled.  "  Our  good 
guest  be  as  hot  tempered  as  hasty  pud 
ding  be  warm.  Tell  him,  sweet  child, 
that  he  must  bide  in  patience  a  moment 
longer." 

Abigail  opened  the  door  just  wide 
enough  to  put  her  head  inside.  She 
saw  Lord  Christopher,  purple  in  the  face, 


254         Ye  Lyttle  Salem  Maide 

frowning  and  tapping  on  the  floor  with 
his  walking-stick.  He  smiled  when  he 
saw  Abigail. 

"  Haste  ye,  little  maid,"  he  said  blandly, 
"  I  wax  impatient." 

"  Bide  ye  in  patience,  honoured  sir," 
said  Abigail,  quoting  the  Governor's  lady, 
and  then  she  withdrew  her  head  and  shut 
the  door. 

Meanwhile  Lady  Phipps  had  dusted  a 
lacquered  tray  which  had  been  brought 
her  from  the  East  Indies,  and  laid  upon 
it  a  square  of  linen.  She  cut  some  slices 
of  pound  cake,  so  rich  that  it  crumbled, 
and  laid  them  on  a  silver  platter.  She 
further  placed  some  silver  mugs  and  a 
plate  of  biscuit  on  the  tray. 

"  Now  you  may  take  this  in,"  she  said, 
"  and  I  will  follow  with  the  wine." 

She  crossed  the  hall  and  held  the 
chamber-door  open  for  the  little  maid 
to  pass  in.  Perceiving  the  student  inside, 
she  bowed  graciously,  her  fine  black  eyes 
twinkling. 

Master  Ronald  put  his  hand  to  his 
heart  and  bowed  very  low,  his  cheek  red- 


At  the  Governor's   House        255 

dening,  for  he  perceived  by  the  twinkle  in 
her  eyes  the  drift  of  the  madam's  thought, 
—  that  she  surmised  him  to  be  in  trouble 
on  account  of  some  rude  jesting. 

Soon  the  door  opened  again  and  Lady 
Phipps  entered  with  the  wine,  which  she 
placed  upon  the  table.  She  began  to  feel 
that  this  unusual  gathering  in  her  home, 
betokened  more  than  some  mere  student 
prank,  and  her  manner  bespoke  such  a 
modest  inquisitiveness,  as  they  say  in  New 
England,  that  Lord  Christopher,  under 
standing,  called  her  back  as  she  was  about 
to  leave  the  room,  and  begged  that  she 
honour  the  poor  tale  he  had  to  relate,  by 
her  gracious  presence. 


Chapter  XVII 
In   a   Sedan-chair 

NEVER  did  Abigail  forget  that  won 
derful  day.  The  journey  could 
not  be  made  until  nightfall,  as  Lord 
Christopher,  who  insisted  upon  accom 
panying  the  expedition,  would  have  to 
be  bled  and  must  rest  during  the  after 
noon.  So  Lady  Phipps  took  the  little 
maid  with  her,  and  changed  the  sad-col 
oured  linsey-woolsey  sacque  and  petticoat 
—  having  perceived  a  rent  in  the  latter 
garment  —  for  a  white  lute-string  dress 
she  herself  had  worn  when  young.  Her 
own  fair  hands  braided  the  little  maid's 
soft  brown  hair  and  bound  it  with  yellow 
ribbon,  and  she  tied  a  similar  ribbon 
around  her  waist.  Abigail's  shy  brown 
eyes  shone  like  stars  and  her  cheeks  were 
the  colour  of  blush-roses. 

Mr.  Mather  remained  to  dinner.     Al- 
256 


In  a  Sedan-chair  257 

though  solemn  in  some  respects,  it  was 
on  the  whole  a  happy  company  that  sat 
at  the  Governor's  board  that  day. 

After  dinner  Lady  Phipps  and  Abigail 
went  out  into  the  garden,  leaving  the  gen 
tlemen  to  their  pipes  and  conversation. 

Lady  Phipps  mended  the  little  petti 
coat  with  elaborate  and  careful  darning. 
She  told  Abigail  many  stories  and  also 
had  her  little  guest  read  aloud  from  the 
psalms.  Thus  the  pleasant  afternoon 
was  whiled  away.  When  at  last  the 
shadows  began  to  lengthen  in  the  pretty 
garden,  and  it  was  the  hour  of  five  by 
the  ivy-festooned  sun-dial,  supper  was 
served  out  of  doors.  The  Governor  and 
Master  Ronald  joined  them.  Mr.  Mather 
had  repaired  to  his  home.  Lord  Chris 
topher  rested  in  his  room.  Then  Lady 
Phipps  hurried  Abigail  upstairs  to  don 
again  her  linsey-woolsey  attire. 

While  thus  engaged  they  heard  a  great 
trampling  of  horses. 

"  Oh,  what  may  that  be  ? "  cried  Abigail, 
all  agog. 

"  It  is  the  soldiers  who  will  accompany 


258          Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

my  husband  to  Salem,"  replied  her  lady 
ship. 

Abigail  could  scarce  dress  quickly 
enough,  so  anxious  was  she  to  get  down 
stairs.  "  And  what  may  that  other  sound 
o'  laughing  be  ?  " 

"  It  is  made  by  the  college  students 
outside,"  answered  Lady  Phipps,  glanc 
ing  out  of  the  window ;  "  they  are  seated 
on  the  fence.  They  huzza  because  the 
Governor  is  going  to  Salem  to  save  your 
friend.  Lack-a-mercy-me !  one  great 
bumpkin  hath  fallen  backwards  into  my 
flower-bed  and  broken  the  lily-stalks. 
Off  that  fence  they  go,  every  mother's 
son  of  them."  And  she  flew  out  of  the 
room  and  ran  downstairs  while  Abigail 
hurried  to  the  window. 

She  looked  out  upon  a  busy  scene.  It 
was  near  sunset.  The  mellow  light  of 
the  departing  day  flashed  upon  the  spear 
heads  and  muskets  and  the  burnished 
armour  of  mounted  soldiers  drawn  up  into 
a  group  on  the  further  side  of  the  street. 
Near  by  a  Moor  held  two  saddle-horses, 
one  of  the  steeds  having  a  pillion.  She 


In  a  Sedan-chair  259 

saw  the  students  all  tumble  pellmell  off 
the  fence  when  Lady  Phipps  appeared, 
breathless  with  running,  her  fine  black 
eyes  flashing,  as  she  lamented  her  lily- 
stalks.  But  the  student  who  had  fallen 
picked  himself  up  and  handed  one  of  the 
broken  stalks  to  her,  with  so  much  grace 
that  she  smiled  and  went  back  into  the 
house. 

Two  black  men  now  bore  out  the  Gov 
ernor's  state  sedan-chair,  upholstered  in 
crimson  cloth  and  gold  fringe,  the  out 
side  painted  cream-colour.  It  had  one 
large  glass  door. 

Lady  Phipps  hovered  near,  a  feather 
duster  in  her  hand. 

Lord  Christopher  next  appeared,  lean 
ing  on  two  slaves,  his  face  pale  from  his 
recent  bleeding.  Groaning,  he  seated  him 
self  in  the  chair.  When  he  was  com 
fortably  settled,  one  of  the  slaves  at  her 
ladyship's  direction  shut  the  door. 

Abigail  saw  Lord  Christopher's  face 
change  from  pallor  to  crimson. 

He  strove  to  open  the  door,  but  it  was 
locked  on  the  outside.  He  rapped  sharply 


260          Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

on  the  elass  and  shouted  to  the  slave  to 

D 

let  him  out. 

Lady  Phipps,  alarmed  lest  he  have  a 
fit  or  break  the  door,  opened  it  her 
self. 

"  Madam,"  said  the  great  physician,  fix 
ing  her  with  his  stern  eye,  "was  it  at  your 
request  that  I  was  boxed  up  in  this  un 
godly  conveyance  to  suffocate  to  death?" 

"Sir,"  replied  she  with  spirit,  "my 
glass  door  shall  not  go  swinging  loose 
to  hit  against  the  bearers'  heels  and  be 
broken  on  the  journey." 

"  Madam,"  thundered  he,  "  am  I  to 
suffocate  to  gratify  your  inordinate  vani 
ties  ?  " 

Her  ladyship  tilted  her  chin  in  the  air. 
"  Sir,"  she  replied,  "  nothing  could  com 
pensate  me  for  the  breaking  of  that  door." 

"  Madam,"  he  retorted  angrily,  "  in  my 
condition,  I  should  perish  of  the  heat." 

"  Sir,"  she  replied  serenely,  "  I  will  lend 
you  a  fan." 

His  lordship  gasped.  The  spectacle 
she  invoked  of  himself  sitting  in  a  closed 
chair,  energetically  fanning  himself  through 


In  a  Sedan-chair  261 

the  long  night,  incensed  him  beyond  the 
power  of  speech  for  several  moments. 

"  Fy,  fy,  Lady  Phipps,"  he  said  at  last, 
wagging  his  head  at  her,  "  is  this  the  way 
you  Puritan  wives  are  taught  to  honour 
your  husbands'  guests  ?  " 

"  Where  should  I  find  such  another 
glass  door  ?  "  quoth  she. 

"  Very  well,  madam,"  retorted  he,  "  not 
one  step  do  I  go  toward  Salem,  and  that 
little  maid  may  go  hang,  and  her  death  will 
be  due  to  your  vanities  and  worldlinesses." 

At  this  her  ladyship's  black  eyes 
sparkled  with  wrath,  but  those  near  by 
saw  her  proud  chin  quiver,  —  a  sign  she 
was  weakening. 

For  several  moments  there  was  silence. 

The  students  looked  preternaturally 
grave.  The  waiting  soldiers  smiled. 
Lord  Christopher  folded  his  arms  on  his 
breast,  rolled  his  eyes  up  to  the  ceiling 
of  the  chair,  and  sighed.  The  voices  of 
Master  Ronald  and  the  Governor,  inside 
the  house,  could  be  heard  distinctly. 

This  painful  calm  was  suddenly  broker 
by  a  shrill  little  voice  above  their  heads. 


262          Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

"  Why  don't  ye  take  the  door  off'n  its 
hinges  and  put  it  in  the  house  ?  " 

All  looked  up.  There,  leaning  out  of 
the  second-story  window,  was  a  small 
excited  maiden,  unable  to  contain  longer 
her  anxiety  at  Lord  Christopher's  threat 
that  her  friend  might  go  hang. 

On  beholding  her,  the  students  cheered, 
the  soldiers  laughed  openly,  and  the 
slaves  showed  all  their  white  teeth  in 
delight. 

"  These  Puritan  children  are  wondrous 
blest  with  sense  and  wit,"  quoth  Lord 
Christopher. 

"  Bring  a  wrench,"  ordered  Lady 
Phipps.  Thus  the  painful  affair  was 
happily  solved. 

Abigail,  overcome  at  her  temerity  in 
calling  out  to  the  gentlefolk,  drew  away 
from  the  window  and  waited  in  much 
inquietude  until  she  should  be  called. 

Soon  she  heard  Lady  Phipps'  voice  at 
the  foot  of  the  stairs.  "  Hurry  down, 
dear  child ;  all  are  ready  to  start." 

Outside,  the  Governor  was  mounted 
and  waiting.  Lord  Christopher  was 


In  a  Sedan-chair  263 

drinking  a  glass  of  water,  with  a  dash  of 
rum  in  it  as  a  tonic,  preparatory  to  start 
ing.  Master  Ronald  had  mounted  the 
pillioned  horse. 

"  Make  haste,  Mistress  Abigail,"  he 
cried,  <c  so  we  may  be  fairly  on  our  way 
before  nightfall."  Old  Pompey  swung 
the  little  maid  upon  the  pillion. 

The  Governor  and  the  soldiers  turned 
their  horses'  heads  and  rode  off  grandly. 
Next  the  four  Moors  lifted  the  handles  of 
the  sedan-chair,  turned  and  followed. 
Master  Ronald  spurred  his  horse  and  it 
trotted  offgayly. 

Lady  Phipps  waved  her  lace-bordered 
kerchief  and  the  Fellows  of  Harvard  their 
caps.  Abigail,  sorry  to  say  good-by, 
gazed  backwards  until  her  ladyship's 
lilac-gowned  figure,  surrounded  by  the 
students,  with  her  kerchief  fluttering, 
was  hidden  from  sight  by  a  turn  of  the 
road. 

Little  could  Abigail  foresee  that  within 
the  course  of  several  weeks,  the  dreaded 
accusation  of  witchcraft  would  be  levelled 
at  Lady  Phipps. 


264         Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

Many  townspeople  stood  agape  on  the 
road  to  see  the  imposing  company  go  by 
and  cross  the  Common,  which  was  cool 
and  green  in  the  mellow  light.  The 
salt  breeze  was  blowing  off  the  sea. 
Early  as  it  was,  the  gallants  and  their 
"  Marmalet  Madams"  were  strolling  arm 
in  arm.  It  was  still  light  when  the  party 
reached  the  river.  Here  the  ferryman 
took  Lord  Christopher  across,  the  rest 
of  the  party  taking  the  fordways  a  short 
distance  above.  As  they  entered  the  road 
on  the  other  shore,  Abigail  was  glad  of 
companionship,  so  gloomily  the  forest  rose 
on  all  sides.  The  night  descended  sultry 
and  warm  as  if  a  storm  were  brewing. 
The  moon  had  not  yet  risen,  but  a  few 
pale  stars  shone  mistily. 

Now  and  then  between  the  trees  there 
flashed  on  their  sight  the  white  line  of 
foam  breaking  along  the  beach  of  the 
ocean.  They  made  their  way  tediously, 
those  who  rode  suiting  the  gait  of  the 
horses  to  the  rate  of  speed  maintained  by 
the  chair-bearers.  Often  the  poor  fel 
lows,  straining  under  their  heavy  burden, 


In  a  Sedan-chair  265 

stumbled  on  the  rough  road,  jolting  the 
invalid  so  that  he  swore  mightily  at 
them. 

And  there  were  many  fordways  to  be 
crossed,  so  that  he  was  carried  up  stream 
and  down  stream  to  find  the  most  shallow 
places.  Twice  the  streams  were  so  swollen 
that  the  soldiers  had  to  make  rude  bridges 
before  Lord  Christopher  could  be  taken 
across. 

Shortly  before  midnight,  to  the  relief  of 
all,  the  moon  arose,  breaking  through 
light  clouds. 

Abigail  first  perceived  it  behind  five 
tall  pine  trees. 

"  Master  Ronald,"  she  cried  excitedly, 
"  there  be  a  witch's  cottage  back  of  those 
five  pines." 

"  Nonsense,"  answered  the  student, 
glancing  around  him  sharply. 

"  But  I  be  sure  o'  it,"  averred  Abigail. 
"  I  saw  an  old  goody  with  a  gobber  tooth, 
cooking  a  witch-cake  in  a  weamy-wimy 
hut,  near  five  pine  trees.  And  just  be 
yond  I  drew  her  water  in  a  bucket,  at  a 
spring." 


266         Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

Master  Ronald,  great  as  was  his  anxiety 
to  press  forward  to  Salem,  nevertheless 
turned  his  horse's  head  and  went  up  be 
yond  the  pines  until  he  came  to  the  spring. 
"  Here  is  your  spring,  Mistress  Abigail," 
he  said,  drawing  rein  and  laughing  with 
gay  scorn ;  "  come  now,  show  me  the  old 
hag  and  her  hut." 

He  looked  back  and  saw  the  little 
maid's  face  white  in  the  moonlight.  "  I 
ken  not  where  it  can  be  now,"  she  said 
in  a  fearful  whisper,  "  but  it  was  there." 
She  pointed  to  an  empty  space  of  ground 
where  some  flowers  could  be  seen  in  the 
silver  moonshine,  but  there  was  neither 
hut  nor  any  sign  of  human  habitation. 

As  the  student  observed  these  flowers 
a  strange  uneasiness  took  possession  of 
him.  A  climbing  rose  stood  upright  in 
the  air  with  naught  to  cling  to,  while  the 
other  flowers  seemed  to  follow  a  pathway 
to  an  invisible  dwelling. 

"  I  beseech  ye,  let  us  hurry  from  the 
place,"  whispered  Abigail,  "  it  be  uncanny. 
But  there  on  that  spot  an  hut  stood  when 
I  went  to  Boston  Town." 


In  a  Sedan-chair  267 

Master  Ronald  spurred  his  horse,  but 
suddenly  drew  up  again.  "  What  was 
that  ?  "  he  cried  ;  "  my  horse  stumbled." 

"  Hurry  !  "  shrieked  Abigail,  glancing 
down  and  recognizing  the  outlines  of  the 
dark  object,  "  it  be  the  witch's  pail." 

Now  Master  Ronald,  for  all  his  fine 
scorn  of  witches,  spurred  his  horse  and 
rode  on  in  a  lively  fashion.  His  face  had 
grown  so  wet  with  perspiration  that  he 
was  obliged  to  borrow  Abigail's  kerchief, 
his  own  not  being  convenient  to  get  at 
under  his  belted  doublet. 

"  It  be  the  kerchief  ye  lent  me  this 
morn,"  said  Abigail.  She  clasped  her 
arms  tightly  around  his  waist,  casting  ter 
ror-stricken  glances  behind  her.  "  Master 
Ronald,"  she  inquired,  recalling  some  of 
her  father's  tales,  "  ye  don't  see  a  wolf 
near  by,  do  ye,  with  bloody  jowls,  a-sitting 
down,  a-grinning  at  us  ?  " 

"  I  fear  I  am  going  in  the  wrong  direc 
tion,"  he  answered  abstractedly  ;  "  we  have 
gone  some  ways  now.  Your  eyes  are 
sharp,  Mistress  Abigail.  See  if  you  can 
distinguish  our  friends  ahead." 


268          Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

"  Not  one  do  I  see,"  she  replied,  after 
a  moment's  peering. 

"  We  will  turn  back  toward  the  sea," 
said  the  student,  "  and  try  to  strike  the 
path  again  from  there." 

Suddenly  a  lusty  calling  broke  the 
silence. 

"  What  can  that  be  ? "  cried  Master 
Ronald;  "it  sounds  uncommon  near." 

"It  be  Lord  Christopher's  voice,"  said 
Abigail ;  "  summat  awful  has  happed." 

"  I  cannot  get  the  direction  of  the 
sound  ;  can  you  ?  "  asked  the  young  man, 
holding  his  hand  to  his  ear. 

"  Just  ahead  o'  us,"  cried  Abigail. 
"  Hurry  !  " 

After  several  moments  of  brisk  riding 
they  came  to  a  bar  of  sand  where  the  sea 
had  once  sent  up  an  arm.  All  was  silent 
again,  save  for  the  hooting  of  an  owl. 

"  I  see  naught,"  said  the  student,  rein 
ing  in  his  horse. 

"There  below  us  be  summat  dark," 
said  Abigail,  pointing. 

As  she  spoke,  the  calling  for  help  broke 
forth  again  not  a  stone's  throw  from  them. 


In  a  Sedan-chair  269 

This  time  the  voice  was  unmistakably 
Lord  Christopher's. 

"  Halloo  !  "  cried  Master  Ronald,  riding 
forward,  "  what's  the  matter  there  ?  " 

"  Don't  come  so  near,"  came  the  reply, 
"  there  is  quicksand.  Lord  have  mercy 
on  my  soul !  " 

Master  Ronald  dismounted  and  ran 
toward  Lord  Christopher,  relapsing  into 
a  cautious  walk  as  he  neared  him. 

"  May  Satan  take  the  knaves  that  left 
me  in  this  plight !  "  groaned  his  lordship. 

And,  although  it  was  but  a  sorry  time 
for  laughter,  Master  Ronald,  perceiving 
that  his  lordship  was  in  no  immediate 
danger,  must  needs  clap  his  hands  to  his 
knees  and  double  up  with  merriment. 
For  while  most  of  the  chair  rested  on  the 
solid  earth,  the  back  and  one  side  tilted 
toward  a  strip  of  quicksand  in  such  fash 
ion  that  the  invalid  did  not  dare  move, 
lest  in  his  struggles  to  free  himself,  he  tip 
the  chair  completely  over  and  be  swal 
lowed  up. 

He  smiled  at  Master  Ronald's  con 
vulsed  figure.  "  'Tis  a  merry  jest,  I  wot, 


270         Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

young  sir,"  he  said  dryly,  "  but  it  so  haps 
I  be  in  no  position  to  observe  the  marvel 
lous  humour  of  the  situation." 

"  Sir,"  said  Master  Ronald,  "  I  beg 
your  pardon.  Take  a  good  grip  of  my 
hand.  Now  out  with  your  best  foot  — 
the  ground  is  solid  here  —  wait  till  I 
brace  myself.  Ah-h-h  !  "  and  he  tumbled 
over  backwards,  nearly  pulling  the  invalid 
with  him. 

The  chair,  thus  lightened,  rose  slightly 
from  the  quicksand.  The  young  man 
seized  the  shafts  and  with  a  vigorous 
jerk  had  the  chair  on  good,  hard  sand. 
But  he  pulled  it  over  yet  some  way. 
"  What  became  of  the  Moors,  sir  ? " 
he  asked. 

Poor  Lord  Christopher  leant  heavily 
on  the  student's  slender  frame.  "  My 
lad,"  he  said,  "  I  wot  not  what  I  should 
have  done  had  you  not  followed  after. 
Those  cowardly  knaves,  startled  by  a  wolf 
crossing  our  path,  dropped  the  shafts  of 
my  chair,  and  with  a  howl,  fitter  to  issue 
from  brutish  throats  than  human,  took  to 
their  heels  without  a  thought  of  me." 


In  a  Sedan-chair  271 

"  But  what  has  become  of  the  Gov 
ernor  ?  "  asked  the  student. 

"He  and  his  soldiers  had  been  a  fair 
distance  ahead  of  us,  until  my  bearers, 
trying  to  find  the  smoothest  path  at  my 
direction,  lost  their  way,"  he  answered, 
groaning. 

"  Bide  you  here,"  said  the  student,  ten 
derly  assisting  him  into  his  chair,  "whilst 
I  go  and  halloo  to  those  rascals.  They 
cannot  be  far  off."  Turning,  he  called  to 
Abigail,  "  Be  not  afeared,  Mistress  Brew- 
ster,  I  will  be  back  in  a  minute."  And 
he  ran  on  and  vanished  in  the  forest 
beyond. 

The  Cavalier  and  Abigail  waited. 

"  My  little  maid,"  he  called,  breaking 
the  silence  between  them,  "  come  nearer." 

Abigail  crept  over  into  the  saddle  and 
took  the  reins.  "  Get  up,"  she  said, 
shaking  them.  Her  steed  obediently 
stepped  out  into  the  strip  of  moonlit  sand 
and  she  guided  him  over  to  the  chair,  the 
rich  colouring  of  which  in  crimson  and 
gold  was  to  be  faintly  discerned. 

"  I    have   been   thinking   of  my   sweet 


272  Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

Elizabeth  in  Merry  England,"  quoth  his 
lordship. 

"  Ay,"  assented  Abigail,  listening  in 
tensely  for  any  sound  of  the  student;  "ah, 
Master  Ronald  hath  catched  the  knaves. 
I  can  hear  their  voices  and  the  trampling 
of  horses'  feet." 

"  'Tis  well,"  rejoined  his  lordship. 
"  Little  maid,  I  have  been  thinking  of  the 
words  of  my  very  learned  contemporary, 
Sir  Thomas  Browne." 

"  And  what  might  they  be  ? "  asked 
Abigail,  giving  him  but  half  an  ear. 

"  Great  experience  hath  he  had  of  death 
and  hath  seen  many  die,"  replied  his  lord 
ship,  solemnly,  "  for  he  too  is  a  physician. 
Thus  was  he  led  to  say  that  when  he  re 
flected  upon  the  many  doors  which  led  to 
death,  he  thanked  his  God  that  he  could 
die  but  once  !  " 


Chapter  XVIII 
The  Coming  of  Thomas 

SOFTLY  the  daylight  faded  in  Deliv 
erance's  prison-cell.  But  the  purple 
twilight  which  brought  repose  after  the 
day's  work,  and  long  hours  of  sweet  sleep 
to  the  tired  world,  came  sorrowfully  to 
her  anxious  heart.  Slowly,  as  the  golden 
light  which  had  filtered  through  the  leaves 
of  the  apple  tree  was  withdrawn,  so  mo 
ment  by  moment,  hope  vanished,  and 
despair,  like  a  pall  of  darkness,  settled 
upon  her. 

The  long  day  of  patient  waiting  was 
past.  No  longer  might  her  straining  ears 
listen  for  Abigail's  voice,  for  the  tramp 
of  horses'  feet  coming  to  her  rescue  from 
Boston  Town,  or,  joy  of  joys,  Ronald, 
Ronald,  to  clasp  her  in  his  arms  and  defy 
any  to  touch  her  harmfully. 

All  that  day,  at  every  step  in  the  cor- 

T  273 


274         Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

ridor,  she  had  started  and  quivered,  wait 
ing  with  nerves  strung  to  the  highest 
tension.  Now  she  knew  the  sun  had  set 
upon  Abigail's  failure. 

The  little  maid  had  departed  the  morn 
ing  of  the  previous  day,  and  had  she  met 
with  success,  would  have  reached  Boston 
Town  in  the  evening,  and  have  returned 
the  next  day  to  Salem. 

Perhaps  she  had  not  been  able  to  find 
the  Cavalier,  or  had  not  found  him  soon 
enough  and  would  arrive  too  late,  or  —  and 
at  this  last  thought,  she  shuddered  —  who 
could  tell  but  that  Abigail  had  mistaken 
her  way  and  fallen  a  victim  to  the  Indians 
or  wolves,  or  a  witch  had  cast  a  malignant 
spell  upon  her  and  she  was  wasting  away 
in  the  forest,  with  none  to  know  of  her  dire 
distress  and  to  succour  her.  "  Oh,  Abi 
gail,"  she  whispered,  "  I  wish  ye  had  not 
gone  !  I  should  have  kenned  better,  for 
I  be  older  than  ye.  Oh,  Abigail !  I  shall 
be  hanged  and  not  ken  whether  good  or 
evil  happed  to  ye.  I  was  fair  selfish  to 
send  ye." 

With     full     and     penitent     heart,    she 


The  Coming  of  Thomas         275 

prayed  that,  although  the  Lord  in  His 
wisdom  suffered  her  to  die,  yet  he  would, 
out  of  his  great  mercy,  send  her  a  sign 
that  her  sins  had  been  forgiven,  and  her 
selfishness  had  not  brought  harm  to 
Abigail. 

Having  thus  prayed,  she  rose  from  her 
knees  and  sat  down  on  the  straw  bed. 
The  minutes  passed.  She  heard  the 
jailer  open  her  door  and  put  her  supper 
on  the  floor,  but  she  paid  no  heed  to  him. 
Time  dragged  by,  and  her  cell  was  filled 
with  gloom.  The  leaves  at  the  window, 
however,  were  still  brightly  green  in  the 
outside  light. 

Yet  God  had  sent  no  sign  to  her.  She 
folded  her  hands  patiently  in  her  lap. 
"  It  will  come,"  she  murmured,  with 
trustful  eyes  uplifted,  "  it  will  come." 

In  Prison  Lane  she  heard  a  mad  bark 
ing  of  dogs  and  the  shouting  of  boys, 
directly  under  her  window.  The  excited 
clamour  died  away  in  a  few  moments. 
Suddenly  her  attention  was  aroused  by  a 
plaintive  crying.  She  glanced  up.  Look 
ing  at  her  through  the  bars  on  the  out- 


276         Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

side  window-ledge,  was  a  limp,  bedraggled 
and  forlorn  kitten  with  a  torn  ear.  It 
had  climbed  the  apple  tree  to  be  rid  of 
its  merciless  pursuers. 

Deliverance  jumped    to    her    feet    and 
stretched   forth   her   arms   with   a   cry   of 


"  Oh,  Thomas,  Thomas,  the  Lord  hath 
sent  ye  as  a  sign  to  comfort  me  !  " 

The  kitten  mewed  sympathetically.  It 
made  its  way  in  through  the  bars  to  the 
inner  ledge.  Then  it  thrust  a  shrinking 
paw  downwards,  but  hastily  drew  it  back. 
Deliverance  was  puzzled  to  know  how  to 
reach  the  little  creature. 

She  held  up  her  petticoat  like  a  basket 
and  coaxed  the  kitten  to  jump,  but  with 
out  effect.  Then  she  made  a  shelf  of  her 
hands,  held  high  as  possible,  while  she 
stood  on  tip-toes.  But  the  shaking  hands 
offered  no  safety  to  the  shrinking  kitten. 

Yet  the  tender,  beseeching  tones  of  his 
little  mistress  won  at  last  upon  the  cow 
ardly  soul  of  Thomas  and  fired  him  to 
dare  all.  He  made  an  unexpected  flying 
leap,  landing  on  the  golden  head  as  the 


The  Coming  of  Thomas         277 

securest  foothold.  There  he  slipped 
and  scrambled  valiantly,  until  two  eager 
hands  lifted  him  down  and  the  beloved 
little  voice,  broken  with  sobs,  cried, 
"  Oh,  Thomas,  my  own  dear  Thomas,  the 
Lord  has  sent  ye  as  a  sign  to  comfort 
me!" 

Thus  Thomas,  a  starved,  runaway  kit 
ten,  worn  to  a  shadow,  chased  by  dogs, 
ready  to  die  of  exhaustion,  came  into  his 
own  again. 

Deliverance  learned  a  lesson  that  even 
ing  which  all  must  learn,  sooner  or  later, 
that  the  crust  thankfully  shared  with  an 
other,  makes  even  prison-fare  sweeter  and 
more  satisfying  than  plenty  served  in 
luxury  and  loneliness. 

The  corn  mush  and  milk,  which  at  times 
she  had  refused  with  a  disdainful  toss  of 
her  little  head,  now  became  a  delicious 
dish  with  a  rare  savour,  such  as  she  had 
never  before  perceived.  For  while  she 
ate  from  one  side  of  the  bowl  with  a 
spoon,  Thomas,  on  the  opposite  side, 
drank  the  milk  with  incessant  lapping 
of  his  small  pink  tongue,  until  in  his 


2y 8          Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

eagerness  to  drain  it,  he  thrust  his  two 
front  feet  in  the  bowl. 

"  Thomas,  ye  unmannerly  person,"  cried 
Deliverance,  "what  would  ye  think  o'  me 
to  be  putting  my  two  feet  in  the  bowl  ?  " 
And  she  lifted  him  up  and  went  back  to 
her  straw  bed,  while  Thomas,  loudly  purr 
ing,  curled  up  in  slumber  in  her  lap. 

The  cell  had  now  grown  so  dark  that  a 
flash  of  orange-light  showing  in  the  crack 
beneath  the  door,  startled  her,  reminding 
her  that  the  jailer  was  making  his  nightly 
rounds.  Alarmed  lest  the  kitten  should 
be  discovered,  she  pushed  it  under  the 
straw.  She  was  none  too  soon,  for  in  an 
other  moment  the  door  was  flung  open  and 
revealed  the  jailer  with  his  lantern,  which 
made  a  circle  of  yellow  light  around  him  and 
showed  the  feet  of  another  person  following. 

This  personage  was  none  other  than  Sir 
Jonathan  Jamieson.  The  light  shone  on 
the  tip  of  his  long  nose,  his  ruddy  beard, 
the  white  ruff  above  his  sable  cape.  As 
he  was  about  to  cross  the  threshold,  he 
started  and  drew  back.  The  jailer  also 
started  and  his  knees  knocked  together. 


The  Coming  of  Thomas         279 

"  Methought  I  heard  a  strange  noise," 
said  Sir  Jonathan  with  dignity.  "  I  will 
investigate." 

The  jailer  clutched  his  cape.  "  My 
lord,  my  lord,  meddle  with  no  witch, 
lest  ye  tempt  the  Devil." 

Again  they  heard  the  strange  sound. 
The  lantern's  circle  of  light  fell  half-way 
across  the  floor  of  the  cell.  Beyond,  and 
concealed  by  the  shadow,  Deliverance, 
terror-stricken,  held  the  outraged  Thomas 
firmly  under  the  straw. 

"  It  sounds  like  a  cat,"  quaked  the  jailer, 
and  he  straightway  forgot  all  his  previous 
doubts  as  to  the  guilt  of  the  prisoner. 
"  The  witch  be  turning  herself  into  an 
imp  o'  Satan." 

While  Sir  Jonathan  still  hesitated,  there 
came  a  long-drawn-out,  blood-curdling 
cry.  Bravely,  he  raised  his  walking-stick 
and  tapped  stoutly  on  the  floor.  "Scat !  " 
he  cried  in  a  voice  that  shook  slightly, 
"  scat !  " 

"  Miow,"  answered  the  angry  Thomas. 

Shudderingly,  the  jailer  reached  in  past 
Sir  Jonathan,  pulled  the  door  to  and  locked 


280         Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

it.  Then,  grown  too  weak  to  hold  the  lan 
tern,  he  set  it  on  the  floor,  and  leant  against 
the  wall,  his  knees  knocking  together  even 
more  violently  than  before.  "  Oh,  mis 
erable  doubter  that  I  ha'  been  !  "  he  chat 
tered,  "  't  be  a  judgment  come  upon  me." 

Sir  Jonathan  leant  against  the  wall  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  corridor,  with  his 
knees  shaking  also.  "  Since  it  troubles 
you,  goodman,"  he  said,  "  I  shall  not  per 
sist  in  entering,  although  I  cling  to  the 
opinion  that  when  one  is  sufficient  exalted 
in  spiritual  things,  the  Devil  has  no  power 
over  him." 

"  I  ha'  been  a  miserable  doubter,"  chat 
tered  the  jailer ;  "  the  Lord  ha'  mercy  on 
my  soul !  " 

From  the  cell  came  again  that  terrible 
cry,  a  wailing,  mournful  sound,  so  wild 
and  eerie  as  to  strike  terror  to  stouter 
hearts. 

"The  witch  be  calling  on  her  Master, 
Satan,"  chattered  the  jailer. 

"Ay,  pray,"  muttered  Sir  Jonathan; 
"  you  must  have  an  ill  conscience,  good 
man,  to  be  so  afeared.  But  let  me  haste 


The  Coming  of  Thomas         281 

away;  the  time  waxes  apace  and  the  night 
watchman  will  be  making  his  rounds." 

Perhaps  it  was  part  of  his  punishment 
that  from  that  hour  Sir  Jonathan  was 
never  free  from  dread.  He,  who  origi 
nally  had  no  faith  in  witchcraft  and  secretly 
laughed  at  it,  although  he  falsely  testified 
to  his  belief  in  it,  was  doomed,  henceforth, 
to  start  at  his  own  shadow,  to  cower  in 
bed,  to  ever  after  keep  a  night-light  burn 
ing.  He  hurried  along  in  the  silver 
moonlight  which  fell  whitely  on  the  peb 
bled  street,  a  solitary  black  figure  with 
flapping  cape  and  steeple-hat. 

Suddenly,  he  drew  back  with  a  shrill 
cry,  startled  by  his  own  shadow  flung 
ahead  of  him  as  he  turned  a  corner.  So, 
cowering  and  starting,  he  reached  his  room 
and  crept  into  his  bed,  there  to  fall  into 
an  uneasy  slumber,  which  the  taper's  pale 
flame  was  as  ineffectual  to  calm  as  the 
light  of  truth  to  reach  his  darkened  heart. 

Meanwhile,  an  indignant  kitten  stood 
gasping  and  sneezing,  nearly  choked  by 
the  straw  under  which  it  had  lain. 

Ah  !    how  its  little   mistress  held  it  to 


282          Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

her  breast  and  soothed  it  and  kissed  it, 
weeping  for  thanksgiving  that  she  had 
been  spared  a  visit  from  Sir  Jonathan. 
There  were  hours,  however,  in  the  long 
unhappy  night,  when  not  even  the  kitten 
nestled  in  her  arms  could  comfort  Deliv 
erance, —  hours  when  all  the  bright  days 
of  her  life  came  trooping  through  her 
fancy,  to  be  realized  no  more. 

Never  again  would  she  be  rilled  with 
joy  that  the  fruit  trees  blew  sweet  in  blos 
som,  that  the  violets  budded  in  the  long 
grass  in  the  orchard,  that  she  and  Abi 
gail  had  found  a  bird's  nest  holding  four 
blue  eggs,  or  had  happened  upon  a  patch 
of  strawberries.  There  were  other  times 
which  would  not  return,  —  the  moonlit 
winter  nights,  fairer  than  the  days,  when 
she  and  Goodwife  Higgins  went  to  husk- 
ing-bees  and  quilting  parties.  Not  for 
her  would  there  be  a  red  ear  found  amidst 
the  corn.  Still  sadder  were  her  thoughts 
of  her  father,  missing  her  help  with  the 
herbs,  blundering  in  his  helpless  fashion 
over  the  task  that  had  once  been  hers. 

Goodwife   Higgins  would  have  no  one 


The  Coming  of  Thomas         283 

left  now  to  mind  her  of  the  little  daughter 
that  had  died  so  long  ago  of  the  smallpox. 

And  there  was  one  other  whom  she  had 
not  seen  for  many  months. 

"Oh,  Ronald!"  she  whispered,  "my 
heart  be  full  o'  grief  that  ye  could  not 
come  to  me." 

After  a  weary  while  she  fell  into  a  deep 
sleep  from  which  she  was  wakened  by 
the  jailer. 

For  the  first  time  he  spoke  to  her 
harshly,  roughly  bidding  her  rise  and  pre 
pare  for  death.  He  pushed  the  bowl 
containing  her  breakfast  inside  the  thresh 
old  with  his  foot,  fearing  to  enter  the 
cell.  So  hurried  was  his  glance  that  it 
failed  to  take  in  Thomas,  snuggled  up 
warmly  in  the  depression  in  the  straw, 
made  where  Deliverance  had  slept. 

Sadly  the  little  maid  dressed  herself  and 
braided  her  hair. 

She  ate  a  little  of  the  mush  and  milk, 
but  she  fed  most  of  it  to  Thomas. 

"  Thomas,"  she  said,  tipping  the  bowl 
conveniently  for  him,  "  my  own  dear 
Thomas,  I  hope  ye  will  not  forget  me. 


284         Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

Ye  can  go  home  again,  Thomas,  but  I 
shall  never  see  my  home  again." 

After  this  she  rose  and  put  the  cell  in 
order,  making  the  straw  bed  over  nicely. 
Then  she  wrote  a  note  on  a  leaf  torn  from 
Abigail's  diary,  and  pinned  this  note  by  a 
knitting-needle  on  the  stocking  she  had 
completed.  Having  finished,  she  sat  down 
and  waited  patiently.  It  was  not  long 
before  the  jailer  again  appeared.  She  saw 
behind  him  the  portly  Beadle. 

"  How  now,  witch,"  cried  the  latter, 
peering  in  over  the  old  man's  shoulder, 
"  hath  prison-fare  fattened  ye  ?  "  But  as 
he  caught  sight  of  the  prisoner  he  started. 
"  I'  faith,"  he  cried,  "  how  peaked  ye  be. 
Go  in,  goody,  and  fetch  her  forth,"  he 
commanded  the  jailer. 

"  Na  step  will  I  take  toward  the  witch," 
chattered  the  jailer. 

"  Step  in,  step  in,  goody,"  advised  the 
Beadle;  "how  can  I  convey  the  witch 
away  unless  ye  free  her  ? " 

But  the  jailer  was  not  to  be  persuaded 
to  go  near  the  prisoner.  He  and  the 
Beadle  fell  into  an  angry  controversy 


The  Coming  of  Thomas         285 

over  the  matter  and  were  near  to  serious 
quarrelling,  when  a  soldier  appeared  at  the 
doorway. 

"  What  causeth  the  delay  ?  "  cried  the 
guard,  crossly.  "  Hath  the  witch  flown 
out  of  the  window  ?  " 

"  They  be  feared  lest  I  cast  a  spell  on 
them  and  so  dare  not  unlock  my  chain," 
spoke  Deliverance,  "  but  I  wot  not  how 
to  cast  a  spell  and  I  would,  good  sir." 

"  Give  me  the  keys,"  said  the  guard, 
brusquely.  He  snatched  them  in  no  gen 
tle  manner  from  the  jailer.  "  Enough, 
enough  of  this  foolishness,  ye  chicken- 
hearted  knaves.  Stand  up,  mistress,"  he 
added,  entering  the  cell. 

He  knelt  in  front  of  the  little  maid, 
fumbling  to  find  the  right  key  of  the 
bunch.  Deliverance,  suddenly  grown 
faint,  rested  one  hand  on  his  shoulder. 
He  started  and  his  heart  leapt  for  fear, 
but  the  continued  touch  of  the  small, 
trembling  hand,  so  weak  and  helpless, 
changed  his  fear  to  pity.  So  he  said 
naught,  but  was  willing  the  witch-maid 
should  lean  on  his  strong  shoulder.  He 


286         Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

unlocked  the  padlock  and  flung  the  chain 
aside.  Deliverance  stood  unbound  once 
more. 

She  turned  and  lifted  the  stocking  with 
the  note  pinned  on  it,  from  the  floor. 

"  Oh !  would  ye  mind,"  said  she,  "  to 
bear  this  to  my  father  for  me?" 

The  soldier,  with  a  gruff  assent,  put 
the  stocking  and  note  in  his  pocket.  He 
turned  away,  no  longer  caring  to  look 
into  those  blue,  beseeching  eyes,  which 
filled  him  with  tormenting  misgivings. 

"  Come,  come,"  he  cried  to  the  Beadle, 
"it  waxeth  past  time.  Let  an  ill  duty  be 
done  quickly,  say  I."  He  strode  out  of 
the  cell  and  down  the  corridor. 

The  Beadle  reached  in  and  touched 
Deliverance's  shoulder  with  his  staff  of 
office.  "  Step  forth,"  he  commanded, 
"and  follow  yon  soldier,  and  I  will  come 
up  behind." 

Suddenly  the  little  maid  bent  down  and 
lifted  something  from  the  straw  pallet. 
As  she  turned  they  saw  she  held  a  little 
black  kitten,  curled  in  slumber,  against 
her  breast. 


The  Coming  of  Thomas        287 

The  old  jailer  shuddered  and  muttered 
a  prayer,  and  the  Beadle's  fat  face  grew 
white.  They  believed  that  she,  after  the 
manner  of  witches,  had  summoned  an  imp 
from  Hell  to  bear  her  company. 

Close  to  the  prison  door  was  drawn  a 
rude  cart,  with  a  stool  fastened  to  the  floor  in 
the  back.  The  driver,  indifferent  through 
much  similar  experience,  sat  nodding  on 
the  seat.  The  soldier  who  had  preceded 
Deliverance,  waited  to  assist  her  in  the 
cart,  which  was  too  high  a  step  for  a  little 
maid.  He  lifted  her  in  bodily,  kitten  and 
all,  keeping  his  eyes  turned  from  her  face. 

The  driver  clucked  to  his  horse,  the 
soldier  mounted  his  and  rode  ahead,  and 
the  Beadle  walked  pompously  at  the  side 
of  the  cart,  moving  slowly  down  the 
street. 

All  Salem  had  gathered  to  behold  this 
hanging,  which  was  of  awful  import  to  the 
townspeople,  brought  to  a  frantic  belief 
that  Satan  had  taken  possession  of  the 
heart  of  one  of  their  children,  known  and 
loved  by  them  all  her  life.  A  strange,  sad 
thing  it  was  that  the  Devil  should  have 


288          Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

taken  on  himself  the  guise  of  a  motherless 
young  maiden. 

So  although  the  crowd  through  which 
the  cart  passed  was  large,  but  little  noisy 
demonstration  was  made,  and  few  curses 
or  mutterings  heard.  Several  boys  who 
ventured  to  call  jeeringly,  were  sternly 
hushed.  In  the  throng  there  was  only 
one  near  friend  to  the  prisoner.  This  was 
Goodwife  Higgins,  who  plodded  bare 
headed  beside  the  cart,  weeping.  Neither 
her  father  nor  brother  was  to  be  seen. 
All  night  following  the  trial,  Master 
Wentworth  had  wandered  in  the  fields  in  a 
drenching  rain,  and  had  returned  home  to 
succumb  to  an  illness,  from  which  he  daily 
grew  weaker,  lying  unconscious  this  very 
morning. 

Many  of  the  women  were  affected  to 
tears  by  the  sight  of  the  little  maid,  seated 
on  the  stool  in  the  cart,  the  kitten  clasped 
to  her  breast. 

Deliverance  knew  naught  of  this  sym 
pathy.  She  had  but  a  dull  sense  of  many 
people,  and  that  the  sun  had  never  shone 
so  brightly  before.  She  was  dazed  by 


The  Coming  of  Thomas         289 

terror  and  grief,  and  a  stupor  crept  over 
her,  so  that  her  head  hung  heavily  on  her 
breast  and  her  limbs  seemed  cold  and 
of  leaden  weight. 

The  cart  passed  out  of  the  street  into  a 
rocky  path,  and  ascended  by  imperceptible 
degrees  to  the  summit  of  a  low,  green  hill. 

The  little  maid  lifted  her  head  and 
looked  steadfastly  at  the  scaffold  there 
erected.  On  the  platform  she  saw  the 
figures  of  the  minister  and  the  hangman, 
dark  against  the  blue  sky. 


Chapter    XIX 
On  Gallows'  Hill 

AT  the  foot  of  this  scaffold,  the  driver 
stopped.  Deliverance  was  bidden 
to  step  out.  Attended  by  the  guard,  she 
ascended  the  ladder.  Only  one  instinct 
remained  to  the  heartbroken  child,  and 
that  was  to  clasp  still  closer  to  her  breast 
the  little  kitten,  the  one  faithful  and  loving 
friend  who  clung  to  her  in  this  dread  hour. 

"  Deliverance  Wentworth,"  spoke  the 
minister  in  a  loud,  clear  voice,  "  will  you, 
while  there  is  yet  time,  confess  your  sin 
of  witchery,  or  will  you  be  launched  into 
eternity  to  the  loss  of  your  immortal 
soul ?  " 

She  looked  at  him  vaguely.  His  words 
had  not  pierced  to  her  dulled  comprehen 
sion. 

He  repeated  them. 

Again  she  was  silent.  Slowly  her  un- 
290 


On  Gallows'   Hill  291 

responsive  gaze  turned  from  the  minister 
and  swept  the  sea  of  upturned  faces. 
Never  was  there  a  sterner,  sadder  crowd 
than  the  one  upon  which  she  looked  down; 
the  men  lean,  sour-visaged,  the  women 
already  showing  a  delicacy,  born  of  hard 
ship  and  the  pitiless  New  England  win 
ters.  Children  hoisted  on  the  shoulders 
of  yeomen  were  to  be  seen.  She  saw  the 
wan,  large-eyed  face  of  little  Ebenezer 
Gibbs,  as  his  father  held  him  up  to  behold 
the  witch  who  had  afflicted  him  with  such 
grievous  illness.  Drawn  together  in  a 
group  were  the  gentry.  And  all  thrilled 
to  a  general  terror  for  none  knew  on  whom 
the  accusation  might  next  fall.  At  the 
tavern,  the  loiterers,  made  reckless  by  the 
awful  plague,  gathered  to  be  merry  and 
pledge  a  cup  to  the  dying. 

With  these  latter  mingled  foreign  sailors, 
their  faces  bronzed,  wearing  gold  rings  in 
their  ears  and  gay  scarves  around  their 
waists. 

One  of  these  tavern  roisterers  shouted  : 
"  Behold  the  imp  the  witch  carries  in  the 
shape  of  a  black  cat !  " 


292         Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

There  came  another  cry  :  "  Let  the  cat 
be  strung  up  also,  lest  the  witch's  spirit 
pass  into  it  at  her  death  !  " 

Others  caught  up  and  repeated  the  cry. 
An  ominous  murmur  rose  from  the  crowd, 
drowning  the  single  voices. 

O  O 

The  minister  strove  in  vain  to  make 
himself  heard. 

To  Deliverance  the  clamour  was  mean 
ingless  sound.  But  yet  closer  to  her 
breast  she  clasped  the  little  kitten. 

Slowly  she  turned  her  head  and  her 
gaze  travelled  over  the  landscape.  Vaguely 
she  felt  that  she  would  never  see  the  mor 
row's  sun,  that  now  she  looked  her  last 
upon  the  kind  earth. 

Suddenly  her  gaze  became  fixed  as  she 
caught  the  flash  of  spears  and  saw  mounted 
soldiers  emerge  from  the  forest  and  come 
rapidly  down  the  winding  road  from  the 
opposite  hill.  Some  dim  instinct  of  self- 
preservation  struggled  through  the  stupor 
which  enveloped  her.  She  raised  her  arm 
and  pointed  to  the  forest.  So  strange,  so 
silent,  seeming  guided  by  a  mysterious 
power,  was  that  gesture,  that  a  tremor  as  at 


On  Gallows'   Hill  293 

something  supernatural  passed  through 
the  people. 

They  saw  the  minister  speak  excitedly 
to  the  hangman,  whose  jaw  dropped  in 
amazement.  Soon  was  distinctly  heard 
the  trampling  of  horses.  A  moment  later 
four  soldiers,  riding  two  abreast,  swept  up 
the  hill  with  cries  of:  — 

"  Way,  make  way,  good  people,  in  the 
King's  name!" 

Following  these  came  his  Excellency 
the  new  Governor,  Sir  William  Phipps. 
He  sat  severely  erect  on  his  richly  capari 
soned  horse,  attended  by  two  more  sol 
diers.  Reaching  the  scaffold  he  reined  in 
his  horse  and  waited.  A  yet  more  aston 
ishing  thing  than  the  unlooked-for  ar 
rival  of  the  Governor  was  about  to 
occur. 

There  next  appeared,  a  goodly  distance 
behind,  a  sedan-chair  carried  by  four 
Moors.  The  occupant  of  the  chair  was 
a  man  of  great  size,  whose  left  leg  was 
bandaged  and  rested  on  a  pillow.  Despite 
the  cool  morning  the  sweat  was  rolling 
off  his  face,  and  he  groaned.  But  dusty, 


294         Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

warm,  and  in  pain  as  he  seemed,  he  had  a 
most  comely  countenance.  The  silken 
chestnut  curls  fell  on  his  shoulders,  whilst 
his  high  and  haughty  nose  bespoke  power 
in  just  proportion  to  the  benevolence 
of  his  broad  brow.  As  the  slaves  bore 
him  along  very  slowly,  for  they  were 
much  exhausted,  Sir  Jonathan  Jamieson, 
making  his  way  through  the  crowd  to 
join  a  group  of  the  gentry,  crossed  the 
path  directly  in  front  of  the  sedan-chair. 
Here  he  paused,  lingering  a  moment, 
to  get  a  glimpse  of  the  Governor,  not 
turning  his  head  to  perceive  what  was 
behind  him. 

As  he  thus  paused,  the  stranger  was 
observed  to  half  rise  and  draw  his  sword. 
But  suddenly  his  face  changed  colour,  his 
sword  arm  fell,  and  he  sank  back  on  his 
pillows,  his  hand  clutching  his  side. 
Those  near  by  heard  him  murmur,  "  As 
Thou  hast  forgiven  me,  even  me."  But 
the  rest  of  the  way  to  the  scaffold  not 
once  did  he  raise  his  head  nor  remove  his 
hand  from  his  side. 

Sir  Jonathan  passed  serenely,  swinging 


On  Gallows'   Hill  295 

his  blackthorn  stick,  all  unwitting  how 
nigh  death  he  had  been  in  that  short 
moment. 

Next  there  came  riding  a-horseback, 
Master  Ronald  Wentworth,  the  brother 
of  the  condemned  maid. 

His  student's  cap  was  set  on  the  back 
of  his  head,  his  dark  locks  falling  on  either 
side  of  his  white  face,  his  small-clothes  and 
riding  boots  a-colour  with  the  mud. 

But  doubtless  the  most  astonishing 
sight  of  all  to  the  amazed  people  was  a 
small,  mud-bespattered  maiden,  attired  in 
sad-coloured  linsey-woolsey,  seated  on  a 
pillion  behind  the  Fellow  of  Harvard,  her 
chin  elevated  in  the  air,  her  accustomed 
meekness  gone. 

This  important  personage  was  the  miss 
ing  Abigail  Brewster. 

When  these  last  arrivals  had  reached 
the  scaffold,  Governor  Phipps  dismounted, 
and  giving  his  horse  into  the  care  of  a 
soldier  ascended  the  ladder  to  the  platform. 
His  face  was  pale  and  his  expression  ill- 
favoured,  as  if  he  relished  not  the  discom 
fort  he  had  undergone.  The  murmurings 


296         Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

and  whispers  had  died  down.  His  words 
were  anxiously  attended. 

"  My  good  people,"  he  commenced 
solemnly,  "it  hath  become  my  duty  to 
declare  unto  you  that  I  came,  not  to 
pardon  Deliverance  Wentworth,  but  to  de 
clare  her  innocent  of  the  charge  brought 
against  her,  for  the  which  she  has  been 
condemned  to  death.  Circumstances  have 
been  so  cunningly  interwoven  by  the  Evil 
One  as  to  put  upon  this  young  maid,  whom 
I  pronounce  wholly  free  and  innocent  of 
blame,  the  character  of  a  witch.  Lord 
Christopher  Mallett,  Physician  to  his 
Majesty  the  King,  hath  matter  whereof 
he  would  speak  to  you  to  warn  you  of  the 
evils  attaching  to  an  o'er  hasty  judgment. 

"But  there  is  yet  another  word,  which  I, 
your  Governor,  would  impress  with  all 
solemnity  upon  you.  Assisted  by  that 
godly  minister,  Master  Cotton  Mather,  I 
have  made  careful  study  of  the  will  of  the 
Lord  regarding  the  sin  and  punishment  of 
witchery.  Better,  far  better,  I  say  unto 
you,  that  twenty  innocent  people  should 
be  made  to  suffer  than  that  one  witch 


On  Gallows'   Hill  297 

should  go  unhanged  when  you  have 
catched  her.  This  I  say  because  we  are 
now  in  a  fair  way  to  clear  the  land  of 
witches.  I  would  have  you  abate  not  one 
jot  nor  tittle  of  the  zeal  you  have  so  far 
manifested,  lest  the  good  work  be  half 
done  and  thereby  nothing  be  accomplished. 
For  but  one  witch  left  in  the  land  is  able 
to  accomplish  untold  evil.  Therefore, 
while  the  Lord  hath  been  gracious  to  so 
expediently  correct  the  error  of  your 
judgment  in  sentencing  this  maid  to  be 
hanged,  yet  I  do  not  condemn  your  error, 
but  see  rather,  within  the  shell  of  wrong, 
the  sweet  kernel  of  virtuous  intent,  that 
you  spared  not  in  your  obedience  to  the 
Lord's  behest,  one  who,  by  reason  of  her 
tender  years,  appealed  most  artfully  to 
your  protection." 

Thereat  the  Governor  ceased  speaking, 
and  seated  himself  on  a  stool  which  had 
been  carried  up  on  the  scaffold  for  him. 

Eagerly  the  people  speculated  as  to  the 
cause  of  this  unlooked-for  pardon.  As 
the  Governor  ceased  speaking,  the  tavern 
roisterers  sent  up  shouts  and  tossed  off 


298          Ye   Lyttle  Salem    Maide 

mugs  of  sack.  One  fellow,  a  merry- 
andrew  of  the  town,  turned  handsprings 
down  the  road.  This  uncouth  and  ill- 
timed  merriment  was  speedily  checked  by 
the  authorities. 

Meanwhile  the  Beadle  was  seen  to  go 
up  and  place  a  stool  on  the  scaffold. 
Then  he  went  half-way  down  the  ladder 
and  took  a  pillow  and  another  stool 
handed  up  to  him,  and  arranged  these 
in  front  of  the  first  seat,  after  which  he 
descended,  for  the  platform  was  not 
strong,  and  already  accommodated  three 
people  besides  Deliverance  :  the  Governor, 
the  minister,  and  the  hangman. 

Now  the  ladder  bent  and  creaked  un 
der  a  tremendous  weight,  as  Lord  Chris 
topher  Mallett,  panting  for  breath, 
pausing  for  groans  at  every  step,  as 
cended  by  painful  degrees  and  dropped 
so  heavily  upon  the  stool  placed  in  readi 
ness  for  him  that  the  frail  structure  shook 
dangerously.  Assisted  by  the  hangman, 
he  lifted  his  gouty  leg  on  the  pillowed 
stool.  Then  he  saw  Deliverance  standing 
near  by,  and  stretched  forth  his  hands, 


On  Gallows'   Hill  299 

while  a  smile  lighted  with  its  old-time 
geniality  his  worn  countenance. 

"  Come  hither,  little  mistress,"  he 
said,  "  and  let  me  feast  my  eyes  on  you, 
for  I  swear  no  more  doughty  and  brave- 
hearted  lass  abides  in  his  Majesty's  king 
dom." 

But  Deliverance  stood  still,  regarding 
him  with  dull  eyes.  Something  in  the 
delicate  child-mind  had  been  strained  be 
yond  endurance. 

The  black  kitten  struggled  from  her 
arms  and  leapt  to  the  floor  of  the  plat 
form,  craning  its  head  with  shrinking 
curiosity  over  the  edge. 

Slowly,  something  familiar  in  the  kindly 
face  and  the  outstretched  hands  of  the 
great  physician  made  itself  apparent  to  De 
liverance's  benumbed  faculties.  Troubled, 
she  looked  long  at  him.  Over  her  face 
broke  a  sweet  light,  the  while  she  plucked 
daintily  at  her  linsey-woolsey  petti 
coat.  "  Ye  can  feel  for  yourself,  good 
sir,  and  ye  like,"  she  said  in  her  sweet, 
high  treble,  "  that  it  be  all  silk  without'n 
a  thread  o'  cotton  in  it." 


300         Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

As  she  spoke  she  drew  nearer  him,  but 
before  she  reached  him,  put  out  her  arms 
with  a  little  fluttering  cry  and  sank  at  the 
great  physician's  feet. 

When  consciousness  returned  to  her, 
she  found  herself  seated  on  some  gentle 
man's  lap.  Her  temples  were  wet  with  a 
powerful  liquid  whose  reviving  odour  she 
inhaled.  Not  then  did  she  realize  that 
she  was  indeed  seated  on  the  lap  of  that 
austere  dignitary,  Governor  Phipps.  At 
perfect  peace  she  sat  with  her  golden  head 
resting  against  his  purple  velvet  coat,  her 
eyelids  closed  from  weariness,  her  confu 
sion  gone.  Dimly  as  in  a  dream  she 
heard  the  voice  of  Lord  Christopher 
addressing  the  people. 

"  In  this  town  of  Salem,  I  had  reason 
to  believe,  resided  one  who  had  recently 
come  as  a  stranger  among  you.  This 
stranger  to  you,  had  been  my  cherished 
friend,  my  confidant  in  all  things,  and  he 
betrayed  me.  Traitor  though  he  was, 
I  could  have  forgiven  him,  perceiving 
now  with  clearer  eyes  his  weakness  against 
a  great  temptation,  but  he  hath  shame- 


On  Gallows'  Hill  301 

fully  persecuted  a  child,  which,  of  all  sins, 
is  the  most  grievous." 

The  speaker  paused  and  his  piercing 
glance  singled  out  one  of  the  group  of 
gentry,  gathered  on  the  edge  of  the 
crowd.  The  man  thus  marked  by  that 
gaze  was  Sir  Jonathan  Jamieson.  A 
moment  he  returned  that  challenging, 
scornful  look;  then  as  the  eyes  of  all 
near  by  turned  toward  him,  his  face 
whitened  and,  with  a  defiant  raising  of 
his  head,  he  turned  abruptly  and  strove 
to  make  his  way  out  of  the  crowd. 

"  Let  me  pass,  churls,"  he  cried 
fiercely,  glancing  round,  "  or  I  will  crack 
your  pates." 

So  those  who  stood  by,  being  yeomen, 
and  naturally  awed  by  those  of  gentle 
blood,  drew  aside  at  the  threat,  albeit  they 
muttered  and  cast  dark  looks  upon  Sir 
Jonathan  as  he  passed. 

This  scene  was  observed  by  very  few, 
as  the  great  body  of  people  hung  intent 
upon  Lord  Christopher's  words. 

"  This  man,"  he  continued,  "  was,  as  I 
telled  you,  my  cherished  friend,  my  confi- 


302          Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

dant  in  all  things,  although  he  possessed 
no  interest  in  my  craft.  Being  of  a  book 
ish  turn  of  mind,  he  treated  with  friendly 
derision  and  apparent  unconcern  my  ex 
periments  in  leechcraft  and  chirurgery, 
professing  no  faith  in  them.  Now  it 
having  been  my  practice  to  consult  regu 
larly  a  soothsayer,  I  learned  from  him 
that  in  two  years'  time  England  would  be 
visited  by  the  Black  Plague.  Thereby 
I  was  greatly  saddened  and  sorrowed  o' 
nights,  having  visions  of  good  folk  dying 
in  the  streets  and  carted  off  to  the  potter's 
field.  Most  of  all  did  I  think  of  the  poor 
children  who  have  not  their  elders'  phi 
losophy  to  bear  pain  and  are  most  tender 
to  suffer  so.  The  thought  of  these  poor 
little  ones  so  worked  upon  me  that  I  had 
no  peace.  At  last  an  idea  of  great  magni 
tude  took  possession  of  me.  In  the  two 
years'  time  that  was  to  elapse  afore  this 
terrible  visitation  would  take  place,  I  re 
solved  to  discover  a  simple  which  would 
be  both  a  preventive  and  a  cure  for  this 
plague  with  which  the  Lord  sees  fit  to 
visit  us  at  sundry  times.  I  took  his  Maj- 


On  Gallows'   Hill  303 

esty  the  King  into  my  confidence.  The 
proposed  adventure  received  his  gracious 
approval.  For  its  furtherance  he  gave 
me  large  monies,  and  I  also  used  the 
greater  substance  of  my  house.  I 
travelled  to  India  to  consult  with  Eastern 
scholars,  wondrously  learned  in  mysterious 
ways  beyond  our  ken.  Weeks,  day  and 
night,  I  spent  in  experimenting.  At  last 
one  morn,  just  as  the  day  broke,  and 
its  light  fell  on  my  two  trusty  servitors 
who  had  fallen  asleep  e'en  as  they  stood 
assisting  me,  I  gave  a  great  shout  for 
joy.  My  last  experiment  had  stood  the 
test.  I  had  triumphed.  The  recipe  was 
perfected.  '  Wake,  wake,'  I  cried,  ( and 
give  thanks  unto  God.' 

"So  powerful  was  the  powder,  of  such 
noble  strength,  that  e'en  its  odour  caused 
my  daughter  to  swoon  lily-white  when 
I  would  have  administered  a  dose  to  her 
as  a  preventive  against  sickness  in  the 
future.  One  man  only  besides  the  King 
was  in  my  confidence.  This  was  my 
friend  and  he  was  my  undoing.  Whilst  I 
was  in  attendance  upon  his  Majesty  who 


304         Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

had  been  wounded  at  a  boar-hunt,  this 
false  friend,  having  free  access  to  my 
house,  entered  and  stole  the  parchment 
having  the  recipe.  With  a  wounded  heart 
I  set  to  work  again  to  recall  the  intricate 
formula  of  the  recipe.  I  was  unsuccess 
ful.  Papers  of  value  leading  to  the  com 
posing  of  the  cure  were  left  me,  but  the 
amount  and  proper  compounding  of  the 
ingredients  had  been  set  down  only  in 
the  stolen  parchment.  To  add  to  my 
trouble  I  perceived  that  the  King's  faith 
in  me  was  shaken,  that  he  regretted  the 
monies  put  at  my  disposal.  Moreover, 
he  credited  not  my  tale  of  my  false  friend's 
baseness,  but  professed  to  think  I  had 
failed,  and  strove  to  hide  my  discomfiture 
beneath  a  cloak  of  lies.  I  despaired.  At 
last  I  learned  that  my  enemy  had  gone  to 
America  and  landed  at  ye  Town  of  Boston, 
whither  I  followed  him.  I  arrived  after  a 
favourable  voyage  and  sought  your  Gov 
ernor.  To  him  alone  I  gave  my  rightful 
name  and  mission.  And  here  with  much 
secrecy  I  was  obliged  to  work,  having  no 
proof  by  which  to  confirm  my  accusation. 


On  Gallows'   Hill  305 

My  only  hope  lay  in  surprising  my  enemy 
afore  he  had  time  to  destroy  the  parch 
ment  from  fear  and  malice.  My  search  led 
me  to  your  town.  It  was  the  close  of  day. 
I  sent  my  Indian  guide  to  a  farmhouse 
for  food,  and  seated  myself  on  a  fallen  tree 
for  a  resting-minute.  I  was  o'er  cautious 
and  determined  not  to  enter  the  town 
afore  nightfall,  desiring  that  my  enemy 
should  not  recognize  me,  if  I  by  any  inad 
vertence  happed  to  cross  his  path.  As  I 
waited,  there  came  tripping  along  this  same 
little  maid  whom  you  would  have  hanged. 
"  I  learned  from  her  of  the  stranger  in 
your  town.  Thereat  I  resolved  to  go 
back  to  Boston  Town  and  obtain  assist 
ance  to  arrest  this  base  traitor.  Now, 
prompted  by  an  unfortunate  desire  to  an 
noy  him  and  full  of  triumph,  I  did  whisper 
in  the  little  maid's  ear  tormenting  words 
to  say  when  next  she  met  him,  chuckling  to 
myself  as  I  thought  of  his  astonishment 
that  a  fair  and  innocent  child  should  have 
an  inkling  of  his  guilt.  So  high  did  my 
spirits  rise  after  the  little  maid  left  me  that 
I  could  not  sit  still,  but  must  needs  rise 


306          Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

and  stroll  down  the  path  to  meet  my  Indian 
guide.  There  I  met  an  old  silly,  praying. 
I  dropped  a  black  pellet  in  one  of  his  pails 
of  milk  as  an  idle  jest.  But  I  have  paid 
dearly  for  my  malicious  chuckling.  I  have 
paid  well."  The  speaker  paused  to  groan 
and  wipe  the  sweat  from  his  brow. 

"  I  have  travelled  far  in  uncivilized 
countries,  amidst  savage  people,"  he  con 
tinued,  "  but  ne'er  have  I  known  such  a 
terrible  journey  as  I  endured  last  night. 
The  memory  of  it  will  last  me  throughout 
this  world,  and  who  knows  and  the  Lord 
forgive  not  my  sins,  but  that  I  shall  re 
member  it  in  the  next.  I  was  carried  up 
stream  and  down  stream,  terrible  insects 
arose  with  a  buzzing  sound  and  fastened 
themselves  on  my  flesh,  the  howling  of 
wild  beasts  smote  my  ears.  Yet  am  I 
thankful  to  have  made  that  journey,  for 
by  it  I  have  saved  the  life  of  a  brave  lass 
who  hath  done  a  doughtier  deed  in  her 
King's  service  than  any  of  you  who  have 
prosecuted  her.  It  was  her  nimble  wit, 
working  in  prison,  that  obtained  the  stolen 
parchment  and  sent  it  to  me.  Through 


On  Gallows'   Hill  307 

her  messenger  I  learned  of  my  enemy's  in 
tent  to  strike  at  my  very  vitals,  my  high 
position  and  favour  with  the  King.  He 
was  having  the  recipe  compounded,  to 
return  with  it  to  England  and  obtain  the 
honour  of  its  discovery  himself.  But 
thanks  be  to  God,  the  evil  of  his  ways 
was  his  undoing.  This  little  maid  whom 
you  would  have  hanged  hath  saved  Eng- 

J  O  O 

land  from  the  plague,  and  I  am  made  her 
debtor  for  life." 

A  shout  broke  from  the  stern,  repressed 
Puritans. 

"  Let  us  behold  the  little  maid  who  hath 
saved  England.  Let  the  child  stand  forth." 

Governor  Phipps  put  Deliverance  upon 
her  feet,  and  holding  her  hand  walked  to 
the  edge  of  the  platform.  When  the 
people  saw  her  in  her  sad-coloured  gown, 
her  hair  a  golden  glory  around  her  face, 
they  were  silent  from  awe  and  self-re 
proach.  Only  when  the  kitten  leapt 
upon  her  petticoat  and  climbed  to  her 
shoulder,  there  seating  itself  with  rightful 
pride,  the  sober  Puritans  broke  into  wild 
shoutings  and  laughter.  Laughter  min- 


308          Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

gled  with  tears,  that  in  all  the  town  of 
Salem,  so  brave  a  maid  had  found  in  her 
extremity  but  two  loyal  friends,  Mistress 
Abigail  Brewster  and  a  little  kitten. 

D 

Deliverance,  frightened  by  the  cries  and 
unwonted  animation  of  the  upturned  faces, 
began  to  weep  and  put  out  her  arms  piti 
fully  to  Lord  Christopher. 

"  Oh,  might  it  pleasure  ye  to  take  me 
home,  good  sir  ?  " 

Before  he  could  reply,  a  young  man 
bounded  up  the  ladder  and  caught  the 
little  maid  in  his  arms. 

"  I  could  keep  from  you  no  longer, 
sweetheart,"  he  cried. 

Deliverance's  arms  tightened  around  his 
neck.  "  I  be  o'er  glad  to  see  ye,  dear 
Ronald,"  she  said,  laying  her  head  on  his 
shoulder,  "  and,  oh,  let  it  pleasure  ye  not 
to  dilly-dally,  but  to  take  me  to  father,  for 
I  be  fair  weary  to  see  him  ?  " 

So  the  Fellow  of  Harvard,  with  a  word 
to  his  Excellency  for  permission,  slowly 
descended  the  ladder  with  his  precious 
burden  in  his  arms. 

Thus  Deliverance  returned  to  her  father. 


Chapter  XX 
The  Great  Physician 

WHEN  the  excitement  had  subsided 
somewhat,   Lord   Christopher  was 
seen  to  lean  forward  with  renewed  earnest 
ness,  raising  his  hand  impressively. 

"  My  dear  people,"  he  said,  and  the 
great  physician's  voice  was  tender  as  if 
speaking  to  sick  and  fretful  children, 
"  my  dear  people,  God  hath  afflicted  you 
more  sorely  with  this  plague  of  witchery 
than  with  the  Black  Plague  itself.  Yet 
it  lies  with  you  to  check  this  foul  disease. 
The  Bible  says,  '  Thou  shalt  not  suffer  a 
witch  to  live.'  But  it  also  commands, 
*  Judge  not,  that  ye  be  not  judged.' 
Abide  by  the  latter  injunction,  that  you 
save  your  souls  from  sin  and  let  not  your 
land  run  red  with  innocent  blood.  Let 
each  one  of  you  be  so  exalted  in  good 
ness  that  evil  cannot  enter  into  you.  But, 
309 


jio         Ye  Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

and  my  words  on  witchery  impress  you 
not,  let  me  at  least  beseech  you  who  are 
of  man's  estate  and  have  catched  a  child 
in  sin,  to  remember  that  it  but  does  as 
those  around  it,  and  is  therefore  to  be 
dealt  by  tenderly. 

"  And  yet  another  subject  am  I  driven 
to  speak  to  you  upon. 

"  Mightily  does  it  distress  me  that  you 
do  bring  your  children  up  in  woeful  igno 
rance  of  the  Christmas-tide  as  we  celebrate 
it  in  Merry  England.  'Tis  very  dolorous 
that  you  should  be  so  blinded  as  to  think 
the  proper  observance  of  that  Holy  day 
bewrayeth  a  Popish  tendency.  Methinks 
it  be  a  lack  of  good  red  blood  that  makes 
you  all  so  sour  and  mealy-mouthed.  Your 
Governor  informs  me  that  on  that  blessed 
day,  sadly  you  wend  your  way  to  church, 
with  downcast  eyes  as  though  you  were 
sinners  catched  in  naughtiness.  There  is 
great  droning  of  psalms  through  your 
noses,  which  is  in  itself  a  sorry  thing,  and 
I  doubt  not,  an  unpleasant  sound  in  the 
Lord's  ear.  Whereas,  in  green  old  Eng 
land,  the  little  children  carol  all  day  long. 


The  Great  Physician  311 

But  here  not  even  your  babes  have  sugar 
plums.  My  stomach  turns  against  you 
and  your  ways.  How  different  is  it  in 
my  castle  across  the  seas  !  To  the  man 
tel  above  the  blazing  yule-log,  my  sweet 
est  daughter  pins  her  stocking.  Outside, 
the  snow  snaps  with  the  cold  and  the 
frost  flowers  whiten  the  window-pane. 
Then  come  the  village  lads  and  lassies 
singing,  that  we  may  open  the  window 
and  fling  out  siller  pieces,  sometimes  a  bit 
of  bright  gold. 

"  Lastly,  at  the  chiming  of  the  midnight 
bells,  troop  in  my  servant-men  and 
wenches.  One  and  all  we  drink  the  hot- 
spiced  glee-wine  my  sweet  Elizabeth 
makes  in  the  silver  wassail  bowl.  And 
to  every  man  and  maid  I  give  a  piece  of 
gold. 

"  I  do  beseech  you,  good  people,  to  have 
remembrance  after  this,  that  Christmas  is 
children's  day,  and  that  to  keep  it  with 
sadness  and  dolour,  is  an  offence  unto  the 
Lord  Christ,  whose  birth  made  that  day, 
and  who  was  said  by  those  versed  in  wis 
dom,  to  have  been  when  a  child  tender, 


312          Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

holy,  and  gay,  as  it  becometh  all  children 
to  be.  Therefore  I  would  have  you  be 
stow  these  delights  upon  your  children, 
for  they  are  bowed  by  responsibilities 
beyond  their  years,  and  joy  is  checked  in 
them,  so  that  I  oft  catch  myself  sighing, 
for  I  have  great  pain  not  to  see  all  chil 
dren  joyful  and  full  of  the  vigour  of  life. 

"  Thus  I  would  make  an  example  of  the 
little  maid  whom  you  have  persecuted, 
that  you  may  deal  gently  with  children,  re 
membering  how  near  you  were  to  shedding 
her  innocent  blood.  I  beseech  you,  by 
the  grievous  sin  that  you  and  your  learned 
judges  so  nearly  committed,  to  be  tender 
with  the  poor  children,  knowing  they 
speak  the  truth,  unless  you  do  so  fright 
them  that  in  bewilderment  they  seek  to 
save  themselves  by  a  falsehood  and  know 
not  into  what  evil  they  fall  thereby.  When 
you  are  tempted  to  severity,  inquire  well 
into  the  merits  of  the  case,  lest  you  do  an 
injustice,  keeping  in  mind  the  persecution 
of  the  little  maid  who  hath  saved  England." 

D 

Thus  Lord  Christopher  ceased  speak 
ing. 


The  Great   Physician  313 

In  the  years  to  come  it  was  related  that 
his  speech  was  so  affecting  as  to  draw  tears 
to  the  eyes  of  all,  and  that  many  a  parent 
in  Salem  was  known  thereafter  to  refrain 
from  harsh  reproof  of  a  child,  because  of 
the  great  physician's  words  and  the  love 
that  all  learned  to  bear  him  during  the 
weeks  his  illness  forced  him  to  remain  in 
Salem. 

Regarding  his  earnest  request  that 
Christmas  be  observed  by  them  after 
his  irreverend  fashion,  they  did  not 
condemn  him  for  his  Popish  tendency, 
but  winked  at  it,  as  it  were,  knowing  he 
had  other  virtues  to  counterbalance  this 
weakness.  Being  altogether  charmed  by 
him,  they  earnestly  trusted  that  for  his 
own  good  he  might  come  round  to  their 
way  of  thinking. 

During  those  few  weeks  his  presence 
shed  the  only  brightness  in  the  panic- 
stricken  town.  While  he  was  powerless 
to  avert  the  awful  condition,  there  were 
nevertheless  many  sad  hearts  which  were 
made  lighter,  merely  to  visit  him  in  his 
sick-room  at  the  tavern.  And  the  good- 


314         Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

wives,  finding  their  dainties  did  not  please 
him  as  much  as  the  sight  of  their  little 
children,  ceased  not  to  send  the  former, 
but  instead  sent  both. 

When  at  last  he  was  able  to  leave  his 
room,  Lord  Christopher  went  one  after 
noon  to  Deliverance's  home. 

Gladly  he  entered  the  forest  road,  thank 
ful  to  leave  the  town  behind  him.  The 
terrible  trials  still  continued.  Only  that 
morning  he  had  seen  two  persons  hanged, 
and  there  was  a  rumour  that  a  ship  infected 
with  smallpox  had  entered  the  harbour. 

He  walked  slowly,  leaning  on  his  stick, 
for  he  was  yet  very  lame.  The  greenness 
*and  peace  of  the  majestic  forest  were  grate 
ful  to  him.  Soon  he  came  in  sight  of 
Master  Wentworth's  home.  In  the  open 
doorway  he  saw  Deliverance  seated  at  her 
spinning-wheel,  singing  as  she  guided  the 
thread. 

Already  the  roses  bloomed  again  in 
the  little  maid's  face,  and  never  was  heart 
so  free  from  sorrow  as  hers,  save  for  that 
touch  of  yearning  which  came  to  her 
whenever  her  glance  rested  on  her  father, 


The  Great  Physician  315 

who,  since  his  illness,  was  gentler  and 
quieter  than  ever,  seldom  entering  the 
still-room,  and  devoting  many  hours  to 
sitting  on  the  stoop,  dreaming  in  the  sun 
shine. 

Master  Ronald  had  not  yet  returned  to 
Boston  Town,  loath  to  leave  his  little  sis 
ter,  still  fearful  for  her  safety,  not  knowing 
in  which  direction  the  wind  of  public 
opinion  might  veer. 

Glancing  up  from  his  book  this  after 
noon,  as  he  lay  on  the  grass,  under  the 
shade  of  a  tree,  he  saw  Lord  Christopher 
approaching.  So  he  rose  quickly,  and 
went  down  to  the  gate  to  greet  the  great 
physician. 

And  the  two,  Lord  Christopher  leaning 
heavily  on  the  student's  arm,  for  he  was 
wearied  by  his  walk,  went  up  the  path 
to  where  little  Deliverance  sat  spinning. 

Lord  Christopher  had  a  long  talk  with 
Master  Wentworth  this  afternoon  and  at 
the  end  of  their  conversation,  the  latter 
called  his  children  to  him. 

"  Ronald,"  he  said,  "  and  you,  my  little 
Deliverance,  Lord  Christopher  urges  me 


316         Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

to  return  to  England  where  he  promises 
me,  my  lad,  that  you  shall  have  all  ad 
vantage  in  the  way  of  scholarly  pursuits, 
and  that  you,  Deliverance,  shall  be  brought 
up  to  be  his  daughter's  companion.  What 
say  you  both  ?  The  question  is  one 
which  you  must  decide.  I,"  he  added 
sadly,  yet  with  a  wondrous  sweetness  in 
his  face,  "  will  not  abide  many  years 
longer  with  you  ;  and  my  future  is  not  in 
England,  but  in  a  fairer  land,  and  the  sea 
I  must  cross  greater  than  the  one  you 
know,  so  I  would  fain  leave  you  with  a 
protector  in  this  harsh  world." 

A  long  silence  followed  his  words. 
Then  Ronald  spoke.  "  Sir,  I  have  none 
other  wish  than  to  continue  in  this  country 
in  which  I  was  born  and  which  has  ever 
been  my  home.  Surely  I  know  the  con 
stant  toil,  the  perils  from  savages  and  wild 
beasts,  the  stern  laws  we  Puritans  have 
made  for  each  little  sin,  alas  !  the  hard 
ships  too  often  known,  and  the  gloom  of 
our  serious  thought  which  o'ershadows  all. 
Yet  through  this  sombre  sky,  the  sun  will 
shine  at  last  as  brightly  as  it  shines  in 


The  Great  Physician  317 

England.  In  the  University  that  has 
nourished  in  me  patriotism  and  liberty  of 
thought,  I  have  grown  to  believe  that 
here  in  this  wilderness  is  the  basis  for  a 
greater  England  than  the  England  across 
the  seas." 

The  student's  face  glowed  with  ardour, 
his  eyes  were  brilliant  as  if  he  saw  visions 
the  others  comprehended  not. 

"  And  you,  Deliverance,"  asked  her 
father,  tenderly. 

Now  the  little  maid's  fancy  had  woven 
a  picture  of  herself  in  a  court  dress  of 
crimson  velvet,  her  hair  worn  high,  a 
lace  collar  falling  on  her  shoulders,  a  rose 
in  her  hand  such  as  was  carried  by  the 
little  court  lady  of  the  miniature.  But 
her  imagination,  which  had  soared  so  high, 
sank  at  Ronald's  words. 

"What  say  you,  little  mistress?"  asked 
Lord  Christopher  ;  "  and  your  brother  will 
not  go,  being  such  a  young  prig  as  to 
prefer  this  uncomfortable  country  in  which 
to  air  his  grand  notions.  Will  you  not 
go  with  me  ?  " 

Deliverance   sighed   and    sighed    again. 


318          Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

She  glanced  at  her  father's  delicate  hands, 
so  transparent  in  the  sunlight,  and  a 
prophetic  sadness  reminded  her  of  the 
time  when  she  and  Ronald  would  be  left 
alone  in  the  world.  Her  glance  travelled 
to  her  brother's  rapt,  almost  transfigured, 
countenance.  Although  she  felt  no  sym 
pathy  with  his  over-strange  university 
views,  yet  the  thought  of  leaving  him 
alone  in  this  country  while  she  abided  in 
luxury  in  England,  smote  her  heart  with  a 
sense  of  guilt,  so  that  she  moved  over  to 
him  and  slipped  her  hand  in  his  and 
rested  her  head  against  his  shoulder. 

"  Good  sir,"  she  said,  "  I  will  remain 
with  Ronald  and  with  father,  but  with  all 
my  heart  I  thank  you  for  your  kindness 
and  desire  that  I  might  be  the  companion 
of  your  sweetest  daughter." 

And  none  of  the  three  knew  that 
through  a  blinding  mist  of  tears  she  saw 
vanish  forever  the  dream  of  a  velvet  gown 
with  immoderate  slashed  sleeves. 

So  Lord  Christopher  went  far  away,  but 
he  did  not  go  alone.  He  bore  with  him 
a  hunchback  of  Ipswich  whose  mother 


The  Great  Physician  319 

had  been  hanged  as  a  witch  on  Gallows' 
Hill.  Thus  it  sometimes  happens  that 
they  who  have  had  least  to  do  with  a 
brave  deed  do,  by  some  happy  chance, 
reap  the  richest  benefit  of  another's 
nobility.  And  thus  it  was  with  this  little 
Hate-Evil.  He  found  himself  no  longer 
alone  in  the  world.  There  in  London  he 
developed  into  a  scholar,  becoming  a  poet 
of  much  fame,  one  who,  honoured  in  the 
court,  was  not  less  revered  by  the  common 
people,  that  so  poor  and  deformed  a  body 
carried  so  great  a  soul.  And  at  last  he 
ceased  to  be  known  by  his  stern  New 
England  appellation  of  Hate-Evil  and  was 
called  by  the  sweeter  name  of  Content. 

Yearly  from  England  came  a  gift  to 
Deliverance  from  Lord  Christopher's  fair 
daughter  Elizabeth,  in  memory  of  the 
loyal  service  she  had  rendered  England  in 
regaining  the  precious  powder. 

Within  a  few  months,  Abigail  received 
a  small  package  containing  a  string  of 
gold  beads  and  a  rare  and  valuable  book 
entitled:  "The  Queen's  Closet  Opened: 
having  Physical  and  Chirurgical  Receipts: 


3  20         Ye   Lyttle  Salem   Maide 

the  Art  of  Preserving  Conserving  and 
Candying  &  also  a  Right  Knowledge  of 
Perfuming  &  Distilling :  the  Compleat 
Cook  Expertly  Prescribing  the  most  ready 
wayes  whether  French,  Italian  or  Spanish, 
for  the  dressing  of  Flesh  and  Fish  &  the  or 
dering  of  Sauces  &  making  of  PASTRY." 

On  the  fly-leaf  was  written  a  recipe  for 
pumpkin-pie,  which  the  great  physician 
had  himself  compounded  while  in  America, 
and  which  to  this  day  is  handed  down 
by  the  descendants  of  Abigail  Brewster. 
Also,  he  wrote  a  letter  to  the  little  girl 
who  had  so  bravely  journeyed  to  Boston 
Town  to  save  her  friend. 

"  For,"  he  wrote,  "  fame  is  a  fickle  jade, 
&  as  often  passes  over  as  she  rewards  those 
who  are  brave  &  so  while  some  of  us  serve 
but  as  instruments  to  further  others'  brave 
actions  yet,  than  loyal  friendship,  there 
is  no  truer  virtue  &  I  speak  with  authority 
on  the  subject,  having  had  sad  experience." 

Those  who  read  the  letter  knew  he 
referred  to  Sir  Jonathan  Jamieson,  who 
on  the  day  of  Lord  Christopher's  speech 
disappeared  from  Salem.  For  many  years 


The  Great  Physician  321 

he  was  not  heard  of,  until  at  last  news 
came  that  he  lived  in  great  opulence 
among  the  Cavaliers  of  Virginia,  and  had 
written  a  most  convincing  book  upon 
"  Ye  Black  Art  &  Ye  Ready  Wayes  of 
Witches." 


THE    END. 


A    onn  I "'''''''''B/i/i! 


